How the Great Guest Came

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D.C. · Jul 11, 1907

How the Great Guest Came

While the cobbler mused, there passed his pane A beggar drenched by the driving rain; He called him from the stony street, And gave him shoes for his bruised feet.

The beggar went, and there came a crone, Her face with wrinkles of sorrow sown; A bundle of faggots bowed her back, And she was spent with the wrench and rack; He gave her his loaf, and steadied her load As she took her way on the weary road.

Then came to his door, a little child, Lost and afraid in the world so wild, In the big, dark world. Catching it up, He gave it the milk in the waiting cup, And led it home to its mother's arms, Out of reach of the world's alarms.

The day went down in the crimson west, And with it the hope of the blessed Guest; And Conrad sighed, as the world turned gray: “Why is it, Lord, that your feet delay? Did you forget that this was the day?”

Then soft in the silence a voice was heard: “Lift up your heart, for I kept my word; Three times I came to your friendly door; Three times my shadow was on your floor. I was the beggar with bruised feet; I was the woman you gave to eat; I was the child on the homeless street.”

— Selected.