When I was just a little girl scarcely more than one year old,
I always went to Sunday School be the weather hot or cold.
I don’t remember much about it only as my mother said,
but I always knelt to say my prayers before I climbed into my bed.
On Sunday morning bright and early Mother walked into my room
better hurry, breakfast is ready, time for church will be here soon.
I didn’t need a second urging as I tumbled down the stairs
to my breakfast in a hurry, reverently we said our prayers.
Then my daddy brought the horses Queen, and Nellie or Pet, and Joe
hitched them to our brand new surrey and off to Sunday School we’d go.
Automobiles were never heard of Buick’s, Ford’s, or Chevrolet’s,
so we had to drive, our horses they were Sorrels, blacks or bays.
I have always loved the Bible stories told to me at mother’s knee
of the baby in the manger and their beside the sea.
In Sunday School I learned about Goliath big and great and of how
David with his little sling the giants neck did break.
Of Sampson with his mighty strength and Noah who did prove true,
of Abraham and his wondrous faith, how the Ravens to Elijah flew.
The one which on the water swam the rod turned to an ugly snake,
the bush that was a flaming fire the lovely choice which Ruth did make.
By memory I learned the books, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John
and the lovely Bible verses long before my teens begun.
The one about the baby Jesus who was born so long ago,
and was cradled in a manger while the stars in Heaven did glow.
How He came to bring Salvation to the world so lost in sin
how multitudes flocked around Him but some hearts He could not win.
How the cruel Roman soldiers nailed Him to the awful tree,
placed on His brow a crown of thorns and He suffered such agony.
But there was a brighter story in just three days, the news was spread
“Come and see” the tomb is empty, Jesus Christ arose from the dead.
And He lives again in Heaven with His Father on His throne
and it’s there He’s interceding for the heart as hard as stone.
If you’d yearn to love Jesus tarry long in Sunday School
for it’s there you’ll learn the lesson of our Savior’s golden rule.
As the years have gained upon me and I’m now so nearly gray
Sunday School is nearer to me and it’s here I love to stay.
I’ve applied their precious lessons and from them I’d never part.
– by Calista Gregg Jones