Little Andy Talks with God
About School
It's me, little Andy.
Are ya awake, yet, Mr. God, Sir?
Can ya hear me aw'right?
It's 'bout momma. Can we talk 'bout her?
She says I gotta go ta school.
But, Mr. God, I don't wanna go.
Momma says there will be lots of kids.
But, they are kids that I don't even know.
Mr. God, who's gonna help momma
Take care of sister, then?
Ya know how, when mama's busy,
No one can watch the baby like I can.
'Sides, I like being home with momma
While daddy's at work, each day.
If'n I have ta go ta school,
When will I have time to play?
Did Jesus have ta go ta school
Or did He already know a'nuff
About writin', drawin', and colors,
Readin', an all that other stuff?
Daddy says it's 'portent,
That I need ta learn new things.
He says ta be a'pared
For what the tamorrow brings.
What things is he talkin' 'bout?
Does he mean like baby sister an magazines?
Why do you have ta go ta school for that,
If'n that is what he means?
Momma says school is cessenary
An that I'll like it, just wait an see.
Mr. God, could you talk ta her
An s'plain things ta her for me?
'Sides, if I have ta go ta school,
When will I get ta talk ta you?
What if, by the time I got home, too late,
You'd be sleepin' ~ like some old people do?
Won't ya miss me, if I'm gone all day?
I know I'd feel really bad
If ya forgot about me.
That would make me sad.
We're friends, ain't we, Mr. God?
Daddy says ya love me a whole lot.
So, could ya make them forget
If'n I should go ta school or not?
Oh, I don't mean ta bother you.
But, ya know somthun', I'm scared.
Why can't I stay home an still
Let momma teach me ta be a'pared?
I'm sure daddy an momma
Will listen ta what you say.
Please, Mr. God, s'plain ta them
I don't want ta go away.
I don't mean ta cry, Sir.
I jest can't help it.
Thanks for talkin' ta me, Mr. God.
Maybe I feel better, a little bit.
Will ya tell Jesus I stopped by
An that I love Him a whole lot,
An that I'll always feel that way,
Even if I have ta go ta school or not?
Well, Mr. God, I sure hope ya can help.
I want ta be a good boy, ya know.
I gotta go down ta breakfast, now.
I love you. Now, I gotta go.
Bye. From me,
Little Andy.
© 2004 by Sandra Griffin
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