As a child, I questioned many things
but not God.
Somehow I always knew God was.
Now I hear many who question
the old beliefs.
But as I see my grandchildren grow
I tell them about the way I was told,
about how God always was and still is.
I blow the mist from my mouth and say
See God is a spirit like the mist.
See how the mist disappears?
God is like that, a spirit.
He is with you always.
You can't see Him,
You just believe.
Like when you plant a seed
You believe it will grow.
I hope I have got them on the right path.
These little minds will grow.
One day soon they will tell little ones
Of how Grandma blew and taught them to believe.
By Brier (firstname.lastname@example.org)