God's Reason

I don't know how to say it, but somehow it seems to me
That maybe we are stationed where God wants us to be;
That little place we're filling is the reason for our birth
And just to do the work we do, He sent us down to earth.
If God had wanted otherwise, I reckon He'd have made
Each one of us a little different, of a worse or better grade;
And since God knows and understands all things of land and sea,
I fancy that he placed us here, just where He wanted us to be.
Sometimes we get thinking as our labors we review,
That we should like a higher place with greater things to do;
But we come to the conclusion, when the envying is stilled,
That the post to which God sent us is the post He wanted filled
And there isn't any service we can scorn for it may be just
the reason God allowed us to be born.

Author Unknown

Minutes of Gold

Two or three minutes- two or three hours,
What do they mean in this life of ours?
Not very much if but counted as time,
But minutes of gold and hours sublime,
If only we'll use them once and a while
To make someone happy--make someone smile.

A minute may dry a little lad's tears,
An hour sweep aside trouble of years.
MINUTES OF MY TIME MAY BRING TO AN END, HOPELESSNESS SOMEWHERE, AND BRING ME A FRIEND.

Author Unknown

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