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Out for a Walk

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Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Mar 11, 1915

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 92, No. 13.

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Out for a Walk

By Strickland Gillilan

My tiny son walks out with me Along the sweet suburban road— Has many a cheery scout with me While chattering in our own love code; He finds a reddened leaf perchance, A gaudy butterfly’s lost wing, A stone from which the sun rays glance, Or some such childish-cherished thing.
All these he bears to me and places Within my hand (as I have halted To reconcile our varied paces), And says, with look and tone exalted: “See, father, what I found back there; You missed it when you sauntered by; Your big, strong hand takes better care Of these—my treasures—than can I.”
We are but children, walking out With Father. All the things we find— Gems now, but later viewed with doubt— We bear to him, love strong and kind, And say: “These big, safe hands of thine Can take much better care than we Of these—our treasures, rare and fine. Dear God, we trust our all with thee!”
—Strickland Gillilan, in Ladies’ Home Journal.