“Sabbath Day,” Friend, Feb. 1975, 41
On weekdays I learn about numbers and words
And how to subtract and to add.
I’m using my brain cells. My mother says,
“Not learning to think would be sad.”
On Saturday mornings I sweep and I clean
And do many chores until noon,
Then I ski or skate or hike or swim—
I’m keeping my muscles in tune.
On Sunday I worship my Heavenly Father,
And learn about Him and His word.
I try to grow spiritually on that day
And reverently serve the Lord.
It’s easy dividing the days like this
But the truth of the matter is:
I remember the Lord every day of the week,
But Sunday is really His.