Grandma said that everyone,
must carry their own Cross;
Uphill, with a willing heart,
A chance to bear a loss.
Some people weep and whimper,
their burden wears them down,
They fail to try to understand,
they wear no thorny crown.
Some people cannot bear,
to lift their Cross with ease;
They stumble endlessly,
and end up on their knees.
Some people carry Crosses,
with smiles within their heart.
Each step a welcome sacrifice,
Each step a brand new start.
For with the Cross comes courage
and fortitude and grace;
Sacrifice when offered up,
puts a smile upon your face.
©
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A really lovely poem about where to put our trust in the trials of life.