“Thank You, Heavenly Father,” Friend, Nov. 1979, 45
Today the storm roars through the skies;
The young green trees bend to its will.
But I remember yesterday—
The skies were warm, the leaves were still.
One day I helped Dad clean the car
And thought we’d never get it done.
But now when I remember it,
It wasn’t hard—’twas more like fun.
The next time when the skies are dark
Or I have something hard to do,
I will remember storm clouds pass;
Each task once done gets easier too.
How glad I am for memory.
I thank Thee for this gift to me.