Mission Triumphant
by Joan Bills

At a council assembled in Heaven,
Where presided the great magistrate,
Came the spirits in anticipation
To make plans for their second estate.
Each was given his own special mission,
And a talent to use and display;
And with joy each received his assignment
With instructions to keep faith and pray.

Now one spirit transcended the others
So outstanding in talent and grace;
So majestic in stature and bearing
With a light in his angelic face.
And the magistrate turned to address him:
“Lo, your mission is unlike the rest;
They are going to earth to be tested,
But, my son, you are going to test.

You will sift out the hearts of my people,
You will test them for true charity;
What is done to the least of my Children,
That is the measure they mete out to me.
You will challenge the faith of your loved ones,
And the stranger you meet on life’s way;
You will undergo great tribulation,
And your spirit will feel deep dismay.

When your sojourn on earth is completed,
And your message imparted to men,
Then, as humble and pure as you left Me,
You’ll return to my presence again.”
For a moment the spirit was troubled,
Ere the conflict within him had won,
Then he spoke, “I am willing, Dear Master,
For Thy will and not mine shall be done.”

Now the time had arrived for departure,
And the spirits were ready to go;
But one paused at the throne of the Father
And spoke in a voice sweet and low,
“Hold my hand so I won’t be afraid, Lord,
I am eager to go down to earth.”
So, with God’s hand in his, he departed,
And entered the channels of birth.

On a bright golden day in October
All our family was radiant with joy,
For heaven had sent a choice spirit
In the form of dear baby boy.
How excited I was on that morning
As I ran to my schoolmates and cried,
“Oh, guess what, I’ve a new baby brother!”
And my small heart was bursting with pride.

How his hair was the color of Autumn,
He had brown eyes and rose-petal skin;
Through those eyes we were often permitted
A quick glimpse of the angel within.
Thus, joy lingered awhile in our cottage,
And my father would whistle a tune.
My mother would scour and polish
And would smile at her baby and croon.

Happiness was short-lived in our household,
For grave sorrow stole in at the door.
My father’s gay whistling faltered,
And my mother’s sweet voice sang no more.
Our baby was entering boyhood,
And his strong body grew as it should,
But the mind did not function correctly,
And we soon knew that it never would.

For the rest of his life he was destined
To remain a perpetual child;
He would laugh and then cry like a baby,
With emotions subdued, and then wild.
My dear parents dreams were now shattered,
And their fond hopes reverted to grief;
They discarded the plans for his future,
And their heartache could find no relief.

But as time passed we learned to accept it;
We would all laugh together and play;
And my brother was petted and pampered,
And usually given his way.
And his physical growth still continued
All according to natural plan,
And his body received strength and passion
While developing into a man.

And society must have its way now,
So our darling was taken away.
He was placed in a state institution
Where the rest of his life he must stay.
I prayed day and night for my brother,
And in mercy, God answered my prayer,
For one evening I knelt at my bedside
And received inspiration while there.

My dear brother and those who live with him
Are fulfilling a mission sublime,
And they will return to the Father
To receive crowns of glory, in time.
In the meantime, they’re not being tested–
It is WE who are taking the test;
And in serving the least of God’s Children
We truly are serving the best.

How dare we presume to neglect them,
And leave them alone to their fate.
Those Children should dwell in a palace,
To be served by mankind while they wait.
We should deem it an honor to know them,
And to do everything that we can
To comfort, to love and protect them,
They should not be forgotten by man.

Even though there are those who will shun them,
There are those who will bless them with love;
And I, somehow, am sure that our actions
Are now being recorded above.
So I no longer fear for my brother,
For I know, though I don’t understand,
That he’ll travel life’s highway in safety,
For his God is still holding his hand.

The Old Wolf has spoken