During twenty-five years in Indiana, I've made some dear Amish friends. Instead of building churches, Old Order Amish worship in each other's homes, or under a tent if weather permits. After hearing a sermon, the congregation sings German hymns without any instruments. An Amish man was at worship one Sunday when he saw a little girl singing. It inspired him so much that he wrote this poetic prayer.
It was just a usual Sunday, we were met with one accord,
Gathered in the house of worship, singing praises to the Lord.
When my eye beheld a daughter of the great Eternal King
And my heart within grew tender as I watched that daughter sing.
Solemnly she held her hymnbook while she listened quite intent
To the preacher's earnest reading, line by line the old hymn went.
Then our voices rose together, lifting song into the air,
And she too was sweetly singing, gladly sending up her share,
Though the deepness of the meaning was beyond her childish mind;
And the number which was called for Mother dear had helped her find.
As I watched, my own heart smote me and I had to bow my head,
For I'd heard a mighty sermon, though not a word was said.
Many times I too can hardly understand God's how and why,
And deeper shades of meaning He has hidden from my eye.
Oh that I might go on singing like the little maiden here
Even though the way's perplexing and the next step isn't clear.
Oh, that I might pour my efforts into doing what I can,
Well content with my small portion of our Father's master plan!
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