The
Lights of Home
"Dear Daddy,"
said the daughter on her graduation day.
"I'd like
to have my college fun. I want to go away.
I feel that
I must find myself, be out there on my own.
I'm tired
of always looking at the same old lights of home.
So Daddy gave
her money. She said, "I'm finally free.
I've no one
else to think of now. At last I can be me."
She'd told
her folks, "Don't worry. Your little girl is grown.
I don't need
your protection, or the smothering lights of home."
The girl and
her companions--she now had many friends--
All partied
on her money. Why, she had lots to spend!
Each day
she slid more closely to the dangerous twilight zone,
Convinced
that she could get along without the "lights of home."
Her bank account
soon emptied. Her friends all slunk away.
And next
she had to leave her suite, because she couldn't pay.
She huddled
in the alleys then, where all the street-bums roam.
But still
she wouldn't think about the glowing lights of home.
She searched
for some employment: "Perhaps I'll 'walk the streets'.
At least
I'd have a bed at night, and decent food to eat."
Her mind
flicked to the story of a wasteful, wayward son.
He too had
tired of seeing the same boring "lights of home."
He squandered
his inheritance on wantonness and wine.
He sunk to
lowest levels: he lived among some swine.
He then came
to his senses. "I need not die alone."
He hurried
back to father, and the welcoming lights of home.
The young
girl's heart awakened. "Would I be welcomed back?"
She turned
and headed homeward. Her steps she did not slack.
Her mind
was on returning to that warm room of her own.
Her pace
she quickened further when she saw the lights of home.
“Oh Father,”
said the daughter, when she came up to the door.
“Forgive
me, please, for wandering. I deserve your love no more.”
Her father
hugged her tightly. “I have prayed that you would come.
You always
will be welcome to enjoy the lights of home.”
Luke
15: 11-32
© 2001
Helen
Dowd
©used
with permission
