THE TRAGEDY

by Bertha Reynolds

Penned September 27, 1953

The life I lived is an open book

Bared for you to read each page

The title given is easily read

A tragedy in your age

 

It's just like any other book

It tells of all I did

From the date of that awful tragedy

to way back when I was a kid

 

In the turning of the pages

Keep account of every thing

So that you can get the meaning

of the message I'm trying to bring

 

The book you see is my life

A page is my heart within

I'm only baring it to you

for you to may be burdened with sin

 

My mother was a Christian woman

She had taught me the right way to go

But seeing her heartaches and struggles

I thought made progress too slow

 

That's when I claimed my possessions

And into the very world made my way

Just then my troubles were beginning

Oh how well I remember the day

 

Now mother you may hear this story

Or read it yourself someday

Then too you may be in heaven

but to you this I will say

 

No fault did I find in your teaching

It was sin I took up with one day

And the lusts of the world did tempt me

So far from my good home I did stray

 

As my life is bared in the pages

Of this, my life book today

Someone's life may be made different

My price they may not have to pay

 

When I ventured out that day

To try things on my very own

For a long time It was a struggle

And I spent many hours alone

 

But then the devil took a hand

And painted a picture for me

Of all the easy ways of life

And how much of this world I could see

 

I must have bargained with Satan then

For on God I turned a deaf ear

Braced myself with Satan's false courage

Told myself I had nothing to fear

 

The way was made so easy

Satan's maps were plain to read

I wondered why mother never choose them

Of her troubles she would have been freed

 

In the turning of the pages

And accounting for every day

I had changed my name altogether

This I am now sorry to say

 

As I write this I have to wonder

Did the angels jot it down

For now you know I'm thinking

Of how I could win a crown

 

Remember I've already told you

Mother had told me of heaven and God

Of the starry crown I would receive

If in Jesus's footsteps I've trod

 

But getting back to my troubles

At this time, they did not seem to be

For I had friends, lots of friends

Who as yet had not forsaken me

 

I cared for no one's feelings

For no one cared for mine

I sang and danced the whole night through

Played cards and drank plenty of wine

 

Then that day came when I could not work

No money came rolling in

Would I admit that I was weak

From the world's temptations of sin

 

No not me it could not be

That pleasures so quickly should end

I'm sick and weak I cannot work

Can't I find just one good friend

 

My mind at that time wondered home

Of all the comforts I had

When before me on that silent street

Stood a tiny little lad

 

He said he had been riding

In that car way down the street

I looked there appeared in the dark

A shining massive heap

 

I took the lads hand into mine

And hurried quickly to the scene

For out of the quietness of the night

I heard a woman scream

 

There she lay all crushed and torn

Under the twisted steering wheel

I could see the pain of death on her face

So before her I did kneel

 

She took my hand into hers

And this she whispered slow

Promise me you will take care of my child

For I his mother must go

 

He's the only one she told me

His father he does not know

But here in my right pocket

Is a note, to him never show

 

I took the note from her pocket

It was scribbled hurriedly I could see

And a photo attached along with it

Was the splitten image of me

 

I was this child's father

This girl I had left at home

The one I promised to marry

But left for this world to roam

 

Oh no, Oh no it could not be

She never told me of this

How could this have happened

What happiness I had missed

 

I gazed down on the little lad

Crying mommy don't leave me

I mustered all the strength I had

To set his mommy free

 

But when freed from all that wreckage

Her life had ebbed away

That's how I came to know my son

To God I had to pray

 

I wept for the little lad's mother

and wished to relive my life

Not in roaming this world over

But for a home with my son and wife

 

Is it too late I cried aloud

To undo all the wrong

That I have done to everyone

Dear God please make me strong

 

I sat there weeping and crying

Much repentance in my soul

Right there on that tragic highway

God took me in control

 

My son with tear stained eyes looked up

and said, Sir let us pray

For mother always taught me

that God could lead the way

 

We knelt there both together

Heads bowed down on our chests

I opened up my mouth just then

And Jesus did the rest

 

When I arose to leave the scene

I knew that all was right

I had a friend who would always help

And for me would always fight

 

Not my son no not he

His name I never knew

For as he bowed his head in prayer

His breath God had withdrew

 

God knew I was a wanderer

I had no place called home

Where could I keep a little child

In this world he was here to roam

 

But of this I had the assurance

Some day their faces I'd see

My wife my son I called them now

And we'd have peace eternally

 

So try never to get angry

And fit in a rage

Think that you can change your book

By tearing out a page

This Poem was given to me by Bertha at the Family Radio East Coast Bible Conference on August 13, 1997. Bertha was gifted by God to write meaningful Christian poetry. Bertha went home to be with the Lord on January 28, 2009 at the age of  91. She lived in Philadelphia.  Bertha attended the FR conferences for 30 straight years.

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