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Cowboy Poetry and Western Verse
The Preacher and the Kid
By William Guthrie
Some of us thought we'd live forever
and some of us had a little more sense,
but we all went to Meetin' on Sundays
for the girlin' and surely not for
too much repentance.
One Sunday mornin' I saw this kid
on the pew right in front of me.
He was sittin' up straight,
his back ramrod stiff, and listenin'
with both ears, he seemed to be.
That's okay and I guess that listenin'
would surely do us all some good,
but after an hour or so, my old backside
gets sort of restless from sittin'
on that hard, old, red oak wood.
This particular day the kid was takin'
in everything that preacher had to say.
I'll speak the truth, if it rained
as much as that old preacher talked,
we'd be flooded plum away.
That preacher pounded his fist on the podium
and he stomped his foot on the floor;
just when you thought he was through,
he'd snatch up another sin, and take off
and go some more.
Why, in one breath, he'd shout hallelujah,
and in the next, he'd sing;
even those hard-headed, back-slidin'
domino players down the road
surely could hear his voice ring.
He held forth on the evils of drinkin'
and the dangers of gamblin' and such.
Then he set in on the harlots, and stealin'
and gossips - of what he left out, brother sinner,
there just wasn't very much.
We finally sung the last song,
had a prayer and was dismissed
to go our own way
and that preacher stood tall
at the back of the church,
and his chest swelled out with pride,
cause he knew he'd done a good job
for the Lord that day!
Now I happened to be
where I could see the kid
walk up to that preacher,
stand firm and solid as a rock.
He looked up at that preacher
square in the eye and said
in front of that whole righteous flock:
"Preacher, you may be older,
and you might be wiser,
and I might not know as much Bible as you,
but the God my Mama taught me about
had a right smart amount of love
in His heart too.
"So, you keep your God, I'll keep mine
and we'll both go our own separate way,
'cause, Mister, your God's too busy
a rantin' and a ravin'
to ever hear me when I kneel down
at night and I pray!"
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