by Bertha Reynolds

Penned September 27, 1953


The life I lived is an open book
Bared for you to read each page
The title given is easily read
A tragedy in your age
It's just like any other book
It tells of all I did
From the date of that awful tragedy
to way back when I was a kid
In the turning of the pages
Keep account of every thing
So that you can get the meaning
of the message I'm trying to bring
The book you see is my life
A page is my heart within
I'm only baring it to you
for you to may be burdened with sin
My mother was a Christian woman
She had taught me the right way to go
But seeing her heartaches and struggles
I thought made progress too slow
That's when I claimed my possessions
And into the very world made my way
Just then my troubles were beginning
Oh how well I remember the day
Now mother you may hear this story
Or read it yourself someday
Then too you may be in heaven
but to you this I will say
No fault did I find in your teaching
It was sin I took up with one day
And the lusts of the world did tempt me
So far from my good home I did stray
As my life is bared in the pages
Of this, my life book today
Someone's life may be made different
My price they may not have to pay
When I ventured out that day
To try things on my very own
For a long time It was a struggle
And I spent many hours alone
But then the devil took a hand
And painted a picture for me
Of all the easy ways of life
And how much of this world I could see
I must have bargained with Satan then
For on God I turned a deaf ear
Braced myself with Satan's false courage
Told myself I had nothing to fear
The way was made so easy
Satan's maps were plain to read
I wondered why mother never choose them
Of her troubles she would have been freed
In the turning of the pages
And accounting for every day
I had changed my name altogether
This I am now sorry to say
As I write this I have to wonder
Did the angels jot it down
For now you know I'm thinking
Of how I could win a crown
Remember I've already told you
Mother had told me of heaven and God
Of the starry crown I would receive
If in Jesus's footsteps I've trod
But getting back to my troubles
At this time, they did not seem to be
For I had friends, lots of friends
Who as yet had not forsaken me
I cared for no one's feelings
For no one cared for mine
I sang and danced the whole night through
Played cards and drank plenty of wine
Then that day came when I could not work
No money came rolling in
Would I admit that I was weak
From the world's temptations of sin
No not me it could not be
That pleasures so quickly should end
I'm sick and weak I cannot work
Can't I find just one good friend
My mind at that time wondered home
Of all the comforts I had
When before me on that silent street
Stood a tiny little lad
He said he had been riding
In that car way down the street
I looked there appeared in the dark
A shining massive heap
I took the lads hand into mine
And hurried quickly to the scene
For out of the quietness of the night
I heard a woman scream
There she lay all crushed and torn
Under the twisted steering wheel
I could see the pain of death on her face
So before her I did kneel
She took my hand into hers
And this she whispered slow
Promise me you will take care of my child
For I his mother must go
He's the only one she told me
His father he does not know
But here in my right pocket
Is a note, to him never show
I took the note from her pocket
It was scribbled hurriedly I could see
And a photo attached along with it
Was the splitten image of me
I was this child's father
This girl I had left at home
The one I promised to marry
But left for this world to roam
Oh no, Oh no it could not be
She never told me of this
How could this have happened
What happiness I had missed
I gazed down on the little lad
Crying mommy don't leave me
I mustered all the strength I had
To set his mommy free
But when freed from all that wreckage
Her life had ebbed away
That's how I came to know my son
To God I had to pray
I wept for the little lad's mother
and wished to relive my life
Not in roaming this world over
But for a home with my son and wife
Is it too late I cried aloud
To undo all the wrong
That I have done to everyone
Dear God please make me strong
I sat there weeping and crying
Much repentance in my soul
Right there on that tragic highway
God took me in control
My son with tear stained eyes looked up
and said, Sir let us pray
For mother always taught me
that God could lead the way
We knelt there both together
Heads bowed down on our chests
I opened up my mouth just then
And Jesus did the rest
When I arose to leave the scene
I knew that all was right
I had a friend who would always help
And for me would always fight
Not my son no not he
His name I never knew
For as he bowed his head in prayer
His breath God had withdrew
God knew I was a wanderer
I had no place called home
Where could I keep a little child
In this world he was here to roam
But of this I had the assurance
Some day their faces I'd see
My wife my son I called them now
And we'd have peace eternally
So try never to get angry
And fit in a rage
Think that you can change your book
By tearing out a page


This Poem was given to me by Bertha at the Family Radio East Coast Bible Conference on August 13, 1997. Bertha was gifted by God to write meaningful Christian poetry. Bertha went home to be with the Lord on January 28, 2009 at the age of  91. She lived in Philadelphia.  Bertha attended the FR conferences for 30 straight years.