We may, to someone, hand a tract, and never receive anything back,
In the way of thanks or gratitude, while sometimes only their attitude,
Maybe a scoffing gesture or worse, the evil utterance of one’s curse,
Still, upon the waters cast your bread, thinking upon Eternity instead.
All the time and effort we spend, as we reach out to others my friend,
Will not be noticed by everyone, but, the work is for God’s Dear Son,
And God’s impact, we do not know, from the signs others may show,
For the outcome is God’s alone, to give growth to seeds we’ve sown.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem