I donít know how to say it,

but somehow it seems to me;

that maybe we are stationed

where God wanted us to be;

that the little place Iím filling

is the reason for my birth,

and just to do the work I do,

He sent me down to earth.

If God had wanted otherwise,

I reckon Heíd have made

me just a little different,

of a worse or better grade;

and since God knows and understands

all things of land and seas,

I fancy that He placed me here,

just where He wanted me.

Sometimes I get to thinking,

as my labors I review,

that I should like a higher place

with greater things to do;

but I come to the conclusion,

when the envying is stilled,

that the post to which God sent me

is the post He wanted filled.

So, I plod along and struggle

in the hope when day is through,

that Iím really necessary

to the things God wants to do.

And there isnít any service

I can give which I should scorn,

for it may be just the reason

God allowed that I was born.

Edgar A. Gueat

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