God---or His Gifts?
I'm always glad when Grandpa comes,
Because he brings a gift:
It might be candy, paints, a game,
Or car that's very swift.
When Gramps arrives, I run to him
And hug his neck around;
Then check his hands for what they hold,
And play with what I've found.
As Grandpa leaves, he calls to me:
I see him pause and wait;
I stop and wave, return to play,
While sad, he shuts the gate.