“Beloved,” Ensign, Feb. 1998, 61
She crept up to her father’s knee
To sit there quite contentedly,
No word needing to be said.
Laying his hand upon her head
And looking down, he gently smiled
Upon his treasured, trusting child.
’Tis thus with me approaching prayer
Feeling Father’s spirit there.
In quiet peace all fears are fled,
Heart so warmed, so fully fed,
That oh, it’s just as though He’d smiled
On me, His blessed, joyous child!