O F F E R I N G 


The offerings were many and great,

And placed where those that gave were seen,

So each would be judged by what they’d create,

While the wealth was honored by eyes so keen.


The vessels were brilliant with jewels,

Large and heavy laden with gold.

Glory to the wealthy, but scorn fools,

While boastful men of themselves told.


“Again she comes dressed in her torn rags.”

Why is it she must pass this way?”

“Did her hand reach out to the bag?”

“She gave not, ‘twas silent I say.”


“Come to me you that are willing to hear.”


Faithfully she gave and lifted prayers.

Faithfully she toiled in life.

In faith, she trusted God to lift her cares.

Faith it was that removed her strife.


At life’s end she died a poor widow,

Not knowing the burden of wealth.

By grace she’s taken to the meadow,

And God grants her eternal health.


For at the offering place Christ had bid,

Come to me you that are willing to hear,

As I tell you what this widow did,

When she gave to me all that’s dear.


Offering by Ronhales                                                                                                                                                                                       Luke 21:2

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