My mother sent me this poem 44 years ago when my husband and I were first married and was stationed in Germany for a year. This poem means just as much to me today; as then.


The Rose
It is only a tiny Rosebud, a flower of God's design.
But I cannot unfold the petals with these clumsy hands of mine.
The secret of unfolding flowers is not known to such as I.
The flower that God opens so sweetly in my hands would only fad and die
If I cannot unfold the Rosebud, this flower of God's design
Then how can I think that I have the wisdom to unfold this life of mine.
So I'll trust him for his leading each moment of everyday.
And I'll look to Him for his Guidance each step of the Pilgrim Way.
For the pathway that lies before me, my Heavenly Father knows.
I'll trust Him to unfold the moments just as He unfolds the Rose.

Hope you enjoy it!