Samaritan

By Sylvia Probst Young

You came in that dark hour of my grief,
That hour of poignant loneliness and doubt,
When hope’s small candle suddenly burned out.
You came – and was it strange I found relief
In tender eyes that spoke your sympathy,
And warming strength within your healing hand?
I should have known that you would understand,
For you have had your own Gethsemane.

You had no words to give me, but instead
You listened to my torn heart’s longing cry,
And shared my tears, I cannot wonder why
Having you listen left me comforted.

My faltering feet you guided – then we found
A path of peace – a quiet vale of dawn,
You gave me light when all my light was gone –
By your solicitude my wounds were bound.

I could not tell you then, but oh, my dear,
God knew my need and surely sent you here.

(1966)