Under the aegis of loving grandparents
children raised of the heavenly host
In the father, his son, and the Holy Ghost
grandchildren here tales of their parents
As children generations taught Bible stories they learn of their lessons and glories

Everyone Sang The Jesus loves me song
“Little ones to him belong
They are weak but he is strong  
Yes, Jesus loves me for the Bible tells me so” 
 Their four year old Granddaughter
Gets down on her knees each night to pray
This precocious child has a lot to say

The era back in the day when everyone
Dressed their best for Sunday Service
Easter perfect parents were nervous
Moms made matching outfit for her girls.  
They did their hair in ringlet curls

Shiny white Mary Jane shoes with either
Tights or triple layer lace ruffled socks
A frilly dress, and purse that locks
Wore forget me, Nots
Easter bonnet with flowers upon it
The girls made themselves.
White gloves, just like mother top shelves
Coordinated Easter basket to keep them occupied money for the offering plate, tied

The family took an innocent four year old to see a reenactment of passion of Christ
The play opens
The Olive Grove scene at Gethsemane
Jesus comes on stage then his enemies

The little girl Jumped up, stood on the chair
Her mother asks what are you doing there
“I want to show Jesus my new Easter Hat”
She beamed as a matter of fact

The grandmother wrapped her loving
Arms around the child
Whispering softly in her ear
“It’s not real they are actors”

The soldiers started pushing, shoving
Yelling at Jesus grabbing him not loving
The little girl’s eyes opened wide
Her hands over her face to hide
Peeking through her fingers
Her terror lingers

The grandmother wraps, your loving
arms around the child
whispering softly in her ear
“It’s not real they are acting”

But the little girl persisted
Unable to look away she insisted
She shook her head She didn’t understand
She took  her grandmother by her hand
She started to sob “please help Jesus”

The grandmother wraps, your loving
Arms Around the child
Whispering softly in her ear
“ it’s not real they are actors”
But the child can’t be consoled
The child wouldn’t hear what she was told

Final act
Jesus was being nailed to The Cross
His life, Paid the cost Satan’s loss
A large spike in the soldier’s hand
Then there was a loud BANG
The hammer hit The cross of wood
The little girl tried to get to him but no good
The audience jumps and screams
Some laughs nervously at this scene

The grandmother wraps, her loving
Arms around the child
Whispering Softly in her ear
“ it’s not real they’re actors”

The little girl lets out a shout
a blood cuddling Scream
” Nooo STOP DONT HURT JESUS”
Standing on her chair
For someone to care
She searched strangers, eyes
Her face ask the question why

The grandmother wrapped her loving
Arms around the child
Whispered softly in her ear
“ it’s not real they are actors”

The innocent child shaken to her core
A new raw emotion to explore
By the grace of God, the powers that be
For the first time the grandmother
Can except the Child’s plea
to SEE through the innocent child’s eyes
And Now understand why she cries

The audience becomes transfixed on this innocent little girl and her ringlet curls
For the first time the people in the room
Understood what it meant, An empty tomb
They no longer saw just a play,
they witnessed The totality The reality
through The eyes of a trusting child.

On TV today we watch acts of violence, ****** deviance, gratuitous actions killing Breaking every commandment
All in the name of entertainment.
People tell themselves  
“it’s not real they’re just acting”.

What is our culture feeding us
An evil we don’t see oblivious,
until
We looked through the eyes of a Child
This was based on actual events
Perhaps it was heaven sent