Sister Mary Faith Schuster's Poetry

It is afternoon
Heavenly Father.
Thank you
for being here.
I remember when

I used to come home
from school
and see the sky so blue
and the trees

standing in three
locust trees
so yellow
and I wondering
how they could have thorns
and yet be so lovely!

Sometimes
people had thorns
I knew
things to worry about

as thorny as a locust

When my father
was close to his heaven
I took him some of the yellow flowers
I said,
"These are the thorns
they put on Jesus' head."

And my father said,
"That was a despicable thing
to do."
That was a word hard to spell.
That was a sentence never to forget.