Tell me oh God, what a beautiful world you have made? Have you made it for me? It sure does seem like it, when You have given me so much.
I love walking to school even by myself. While I know I could ride with dad, or mom, and my little brother, I always preferred to walk. Walking, even alone, seem’s so fun. Is this normal?
My eye’s fly over the ground, and I imagine I am a bird, or maybe in a plane flying along. Small cracks in the ground look like canyon’s, small grasses look like tree’s, and the smallest water puddles look like lake’s or river’s, wandering softly past. Is this what angel’s get to see?
Every day it seem’s like I see something new. While I know I have been by this way before, my eye’s alway’s find something new. How beautiful are all the thing’s that You have made. Did You make all this God? I think so, because my mom and dad say so.
There are those old orange tree’s again standing along the road. I love grabbing a green orange off the bottom, the low hanging branches I can just reach. They make good softball’s. Sometimes they land just right in the middle of the street, and the car’s smashes them. That’s funny. My hand smell’s like oranges now.
It feel’s so peaceful to just walk. I really like seeing all the living thing’s along the way. Every dog barking along the fence, every ant hole with the ever busy ant’s moving about their task’s. They sure do go crazy if I walk to close to their hole. Do they even know I am here?
The neighbor’s cat lying on the wall sleeping in the sun, bird’s lined up along the telephone wires high up in the air. I know cat’s eat bird’s, but they don’t seem to be flying away. The cat look’s at them sometime’s, but then goes right back to sleep. Maybe this cat had enough milk for breakfast. The bird’s seem to look at me like they know me, do they really know who I am, walking there?
I often talk to myself, but funnier still, a voice talks back. Is it God? I don’t know, but one thing is for sure, I am always happy when the talking takes place. It feel’s good, and I have heard God is all good, so it must be God. Soft and sure the voice sound’s, saying thing’s that are alway’s good, oh how it is so peaceful to talk. It has to be God.
Sometime’s at school kid’s might ignore me, but never does the voice say no when I call. My Father say’s Jesus is alway’s with us, maybe it’s Jesus who talk’s to me? When I am lonely at home in my room, I call to Jesus, and His soft voice makes me feel good. He has the same voice as my Father.
This morning before I went to school, I reminded dad about the bunny I saw yesterday. Yesterday we went to the mall and stopped in the pet store. I got to hold a bunny, and when I asked; “Dad, can I have a bunny?”, he said no, but he seemed to like watching me hold it, smiling.
“We don’t have grass,” He said, “and bunnies like grass.” “So maybe if we ever get a lawn, I will think about it.”
I like the bunnies, they’re so soft. Their soft long ear’s tickle my finger’s as I pet them. They lay there in your arm’s so softly, quietly, how could someone not like bunnies? But I like dog’s too. God do You think dad will ever buy me a puppy? That would be so nice.
Funny how so many people have different yard’s. A lot of people have fences, but some don’t, and the grass just end’s at the sidewalk. Peoples houses look so funny, looking back at me walking by, the window’s look like eye’s watching me. Some have happy faces, but some are scary, I hurry past those.
People put all kind’s of thing’s in the yard. Fountain’s, statues, grass, bushes, sometimes even rock’s and stuff like that. The flower’s in the yard’s are pretty, the nice light paint make’s some houses look so happy. I like the green grass, it looks soft enough to lay in. The bird’s always drink out of the fountain.
One time a small sparrow was standing on a small fence as I walked up. It didn’t fly away even as I reach slowly toward him. It just stood the tilting it’s head back and forth looking at me. My fingers just touched the small bird before it flew away. I imagine that bird wanted to give me a kiss before it flew away.
Almost to school now, and one more house. The one at the corner just before I cross the street. Up run’s the little fluffy brown dog that alway’s come’s up to say hi. I stick my finger’s through the fence to pet her ears, my brother say’s it’s a yorkie-poo, but I call call her “Baby”, because she is so small.
What a nice dog, when I grow up I am going to get a dog just like Baby. She likes me, she lick’s my finger’s all the time, her tail wagging like crazy.
Wait for a moment, until the crosswalk lady say’s it ok, and then walk across.
Time for school. There’s my friend’s.
Dog’s Might Just Be Angel’s In Disguise
Dog’s love kids with a love that is so deep, they never say no, or walk away, when baby is awake or even in her sleep, by her bed at night they softly lay.
As all around God the angels do fly, ever if only making Him smile, so does my puppy, playing happy alway’s try barking and wagging her tail awhile.
Why were they made, I often have thought, I would like to ask God if I might, for simple pleasure their love has surely brought, if just to soften my fear late at night.
Soft do I stroke puppies fur with my hand, and so quiet does she lay by my side, for against any foe, my dog will she stand, forever faithful, at my feet she will abide.
For God has His servant’s and they love Him so well bringing Him all that He need’s here and there, but here on the earth the sweet dog must I tell is God’s gift of a good servant, for us in our care.
Getting home after school this day didn’t seem any different then the last. But something was, because mom seemed to be looking at me differently. She was helping my brother with his school work, but seemed to look at me, and smile a lot.
A couple of times she asked me if I finished my homework, and I say more then once; “yes”. She finally ask’s me to put some of my things away to my room, and I gather them up. I sometimes don’t like having to do what I am told right away, but when I do it, I always feel so good after.
I probably leave things around more then I should, but mom just ask’s me to put them away, so I do. Shoes, and my backpack, some toy’s, and my favorite book, all have to go in my room. Not on the floor, but put them away. Dad say’s I need to take care of my thing’s. I am sure God want’s me to take care of the gift’s He give’s me.
“Can we keep her?” I say almost as fast as I see her. Dad say’s; “We better because she is your’s”, he smiles as he hand’s the little dog to me.
I take the puppy in my arm’s, and she squirms up so happy to lick my face. Her puppy smell is so good. Little claws scratching my arm, but I don’t care, all I want to do is hug and kiss her.
Oh, she lick’s and kisses my face so much it makes me laugh. “I love her already.” “I’m going to call her Cindy, short for Cinderella, because she is a princess.”
“That’s a perfect name.” Dad says smiling at me.
“Thank you dad, thank you mom!” They both are smiling and laughing, as I laugh at the licking little dog.
I look at my Father and say; “How did you know?” “She is exactly the kind of dog I wanted.”
My Father looks at my in the most loving smile and says; “I watch you all the time, even when you don’t think I Am.” “I love you, and want to give you those things that you love.”
“Now you know you will have to take care of her.” Dad say’s in a voice that sound’s very much like the one I hear when I’m walking to school.
“You will have to feed her, you will have to clean up after her if she messes, but most of all, you will have to love her as much as she love’s you.”
“I will!” I say so happy.
Simple as it may be to say; dogs are good, it is true. They have a special job God has given them. Making them special for you or I. They give love.
In heaven God made angels for himself, to help and serve Him. Yes, He is God, and does He truly need the help? But He has them anyway.
Not everyone may have a dog, not everyone may even need one, but when God gives us one, it is clear that a special dog is given to a special person. There is a bond that forms between a dog owner and the dog. A love is created between them.
Anyone who has owned a dog, and loved them, would tell you the same; “my dog loves me!” It is almost as if the dog is assigned to them for a special task.
Now much has passed and I have grown quite a bit older.
I once was given a dog, and a beautiful dog she was, a beautiful gift she was. I called her Cindy, short for Cinderella, because she looked like a little princess. I knew among dog’s she was a princes. My Father gave to me, not because He had to, but because He wanted to.
What a beautiful family we had, and Cindy was our dog, but more she was my dog. Cindy always sat by me, and watched, even when I went through my normal stuff of the day, even when I didn’t pay attention to her.
When I wanted to play, she always played. When I was sad, she would lay her head by me and just look, sometimes she licked my leg when I was sad. She followed me all around, and mom said most of the time when I went to school she would wait by the door. Everybody knew she was my dog.
She would always lay in my room, and sometimes I would even sneak her in my bed, mom said she was supposed to stay on the floor, but didn’t seem to really mind. But early in the morning, there she would be right next to my bed sleeping.
She like’d almost everyone, almost. One day a man came over, and she growled at him. He was there to fix the phone, but Cindy got mad every time he even moved toward’s me. When the man left, mom said she didn’t like him either. Dad seemed to watch this man much more because of the way Cindy acted. I’m glad my Cindy was there that day.
Many year’s have come and went, and Cindy has grown old and grey. Now the task fall’s on me to hold and protect her as the year’s fade away.
So fast to play and quick to run is she no longer in flight. But never the love fading in the eye’s of dear Cindy, my heart’s delight.
For I am no longer a child or does this sweet dog need to care. She just bring’s to me peace, as I sit and pet her gentle lock’s of hair.
Much is the gift a good God choses to command. Bringing such a sweet angel into my life, His sweet flower into my hand.
Thank you my dear Daddy, for all You have given to me. Never have I stopped hearing You, knowing You are watching even when I can’t see.
By Peter Colla For Vileen Reed
“Thank You Lord Jesus for everything You give me. Thank You for watching me even when I don’t see it, thank You for knowing my want’s and need’s, and thank You for giving me all I need, even a few thing’s I don’t.”