A small poverty-stricken girl wearing shabby clothes and unkempt hair. Treasures in heaven was all she bear. Poverty seem to be her destiny in life, but as she grew she struggle to survive. Nine was the age she began to toil. Sunrise to sunset was all. She was taught God's love and never be idle for survival. She remember God's word, through sorrow the heart will be better. Through diligence life began to matter.
Life had dealt her a bad hand, she remember it's God who giveth wealth to make one stand.
through prayer and toil riches in life came soon. Poverty was not her doom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It's strange how two minds think alike, I have written a poem almost the same content it's called 'The Village Well' I enjoy that kind of writing and I cansee that you do too.