The sandy African soil stirs
Around the dark bare feet
Of running boys and girls.
They pretend to fight in wars
Reenacting what they've seen before.
I've been protected from
Wrongs they often witness.
How could I be chosen
To teach them forgiveness?
I want to give them everything they need!
To help them become whatever they've dreamed
And make sure they have plenty to eat,
But how can I in only two weeks?
I see all the difficulties--
Hundreds I could never appease.
Christ, what would You do?
I came to bear witness for You.
Gently, You answer, and I agree.
Now, it's my job to kneel
And wash their dusty little feet.
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