The Dime Store Jesus

I was just a little girl
When Daddy brought him home,
A dime store Jesus in some straw,
That I could call my own…

I touched his tiny fingers
And searched his glowing face,
And somehow in those moments,
I felt my heart embraced…

Like any child that loves to play,
I herded in the lambs,
And gathered up the wise men
To kneel at my command…

But once again my eyes drew
Back to the little child,
And this time when I saw him,
I promise that he smiled…

And though my dime store Jesus,
With his painted little face,
Has been gone these many years…
In me, he planted faith…

Along the paths I travel,
And wherever I may roam…
It's the Jesus I met long ago,
Still, that leads me home.

By Sharon Frye