- Dolores Fruth

It is the wise men and their story,
Finding promise in God's glory.

It is the star that lights their way,
And shines within our hearts today.

It is our journey once again
To introduce our Christ to men.

It is the gifts we gladly bring
In honor of the Child, our King.

May God's Epiphany shine through
As He gives grace to me and you.



The Disciples

                   -  Dolores Fruth

They locked themselves in a room to pray.
"All hope is lost, " we hear them say.
With gloom and doom they bow each head,
Because their Savior now is dead

It is the end, they truly thought
His promises they now forgot,
Remembering not the wine and bread,

Because their Savior now is dead

They ran away from guards one night
And left the Master to His plight.
They could not face the awful dread,
And so their Savior now is dead

But, look, the room is filled with light,
As Christ appears to them that night
It's not the end, as all have said
He is alive, and never dead!

The disciples know the truth at last
The gloom and doom had quickly passed
Unlock the door - the Good News spread¬
CHRIST IS ALIVE and never dead




Broken Resolutions
-Dolores Fruth


Broken resolutions
Each year they come and go
At first we run the race with glee
Then falter as we go.

Announcing rather loudly
‘This year I’ll lose the pounds”
As we reach for the brownie
And everybody frowns.

We resolve to never gossip
And to control the tongue
But then we whisper in your ear
“Have you heard what she has done?’

Some have an alcoholic bend
And vow to quit this night
But, oh, a little wine with cheese
Is certainly all right.

The list goes on and on and on
As each one tries her best
It isn’t easy to resist
We often flunk the test.

So just resolve to live and learn
And be an “also ran”
We know that we will make mistakes
Just do the best you can.

Broken resolutions
Help us to realize
That though we are imperfect
God helps us gain the prize.



A Parsonage Christmas Story (a true happening)

By Dolores Fruth


Twas the day after Christmas, and we suddenly knew
No services were scheduled, the pageants were through
No carolers or youth choirs or baskets to fill
Our day stretched ahead and we felt quite a thrill.

Our children awoke and we gathered together
It’ a family day, in spite of the weather.
Our Christmas tree was a beautiful sight
So we planned for a day neath it’s shimmering light.

The phone interrupted our plans for the day.
The director of youth had so much to say.
“We have decided to come visit you
We know you are lonely with nothing to do”.

We hurriedly dressed and tidied the room.
Our son was the one to grab for the broom’
He swung near the tree but went too far
Then down came the tree, including the star.

The lights and the ornaments crashed to the floor,
Just as our daughter answered the door
Our visitors were met with great surprise
As they saw the disaster in front of their eyes.

Everyone laughed and they all pitched in
To clean up the mess that they saw within.
A basket of needles soon sat to the side
As the naked tree was carried outside.

Hot chocolate and cookies made everything right
As we said Mery Christmas and bid them goodnight.



The Waiting Room

                  - Dolores Fruth


We sit in doubt in the waiting room

Wondering what is to be.

Will the Doctor be the one we need?

Will he find the cure for me?


The Advent time is our waiting room

As we restlessly long for His voice

Wondering now if He is the one

With whom we can now rejoice.


So prepare your heart for His coming

And patiently watch as you pray

Knowing that God gives joy and peace

As promised on Christmas Day.




A Child’s Gift

                    -Dolores Fruth

My heart was filled with hopelessness
My skies were no longer blue.
Then a precious child ran up to me
And whispered, “I love you”

Her little arms clutched oh so tight
.A smile was on her face.
Her eyes sought mine so lovingly
It was a sweet embrace.

I heard her mother call out her name
She said they must depart.
She left behind a lovely hug
That healed my lonesome heart.



The Ghost Writer

                       _ Dolores Fruth


God is the author of my verse.
He wakes me in the night
He dictates rhymes into my head
As I sit down to write.

I am his servant, don’t you see.
I don’t deserve the fame
He gave to me this talent
And now I praise His name.

I pass the verses on to you
As I gratefully confess
That as a humble ghost writer
I know I chose the best.



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