My own Bible is what I need,
It's my prize for selling garden seeds.
I ordered my seeds, with pennies and dimes,
Back in the twenties, we had hard times.
The seeds arrived in special packets small.
I could not get my Bible, until I sold them all.
I pestered my family and neighbors,
Till all were sold.
I will buy just a few, I was so often told.
They planted the seeds, and plants came up tall.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem