The young man took one last look at the old home place.
Then he did an about face,
And slowly walked down the little country lane.
In the bell tower the church bells began to toll,
Causing a loneliness in his soul.
But, he kept a straight face to mask the pain.
As he entered into a life of sin,
He realized if he ever make it home again,
Things would never be quite the same.
However, he was just thinking about here and now,
And though he didn't know how,
He planned on making himself a name!
Ah, it wasn't very long,
Until a life of wine, women, and song,
Produced moral and physical decay.
Every night he'd get high.
Then the next morning he would cry,
With a headache that just wouldn't go away.
Eventually, he was left without a friend.
And he had reached his rope's end,
When he heard about Jesus, God's Son!
He heard a street preacher say,
"Christ will wash your sins away,"
"And forgive you for every wrong you've done!"
So, he accepted Jesus into his life,
And he left behind all sin and strife,
And the insatiable urge to roam.
Then laying aside his foolish pride,
He "hitched" ride after ride,
In an attempt to reach his childhood home.
Oh, it was a cold and wintry night,
And he could barely see the light,
On the porch of the little house on the hill.
His face felt frozen and he could barely see.
Then he saw that old familiar oak tree.
It's location near the house he remembered still!
From the oak tree he crawled the last few feet,
Not knowing what kind of reception he would meet,
As he weakly knocked on the cabin door.
Ah yes, he could hear voices inside,
And as the door swung open wide,
The sight of home made his spirits soar!
Next he saw the most wonderful sight.
It was his Daddy with hair so white!
Big old tears were streaming down his face.
His precious Mommy stood by his side.
Then she lovingly replied,
"Son, things just haven't been the same,"
"Since you left the old home place."
Robert F. Dotson
Used With Permission
All Rights Reserved By Author