He was born in an obscure village
The child of a peasant woman He grew up in another obscure village Where he worked in a carpenter shop Until He was thirty He never wrote a book He never held an office He never went to college He never visited a big city He never travelled more than two hundred miles From the place where He was born He did none of the things Usually associated with greatness He had no credentials but Himself He was only thirty three His friends ran away One of them denied Him He was turned over to His enemies And went through the mockery of a trial He was nailed to a cross between two thieves While dying, His executioners gambled for His clothing The only property He had on earth When He was dead He was laid in a borrowed grave Through the pity of a friend Nineteen centuries have come and gone And today Jesus is the central figure of the human race And the leader of mankind's progress All the armies that have ever marched All the navies that have ever sailed All the parliaments that have ever sat All the kings that ever reigned put together Have not affected the life of mankind on earth As powerfully as that one solitary life Dr. James Allan © 1926.
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