His ways were unconventional, and sometimes he was rash.
He built his house quite crudely; he didn't have much cash.
He wasn't very handsome, and he wasn't super smart.
But I can tell you one thing: he had a GREAT BIG HEART.
He drove an old jalopy, with speeds not very swift.
He'd stop for weary travelers and offer them a lift.
Sometimes he'd bring home drunkards, or folks who were in need.
He'd share with them some supper, and then their souls he'd feed.
He'd talk to them of Jesus. He'd tell them of God's grace.
"God sent His Son to free you. Your sins He will erase."
Sometimes he'd house a stranger for days and days on end.
He treated down-and-outers just as he would a friend.
In times of great disaster you'd find that he was there.
His home, although not fancy, with families he did share.
His wife was just as generous. She'd shuffle things about.
They'd make room for the destitute; they'd not turn one soul out.
Quite often on a Saturday you'd find him in the slums.
He'd play his sax for children. He'd preach Christ to the bums.
He took them cast-off clothing, gathered from his neighborhood.
And from his family's larder he took the poor folks food.
It wasn't in his nature to leave one in the lurch,
So in his beat-up Chevy he'd transport folks to church.
To him it didn't matter if their bodies weren't too clean,
Or if the congregation frowned, or didn't seem too keen.
He never thought of weather, he'd battle rain or snow.
If a need arose at midnight, he'd jump right up and go.
He noticed neither color, nor culture, race, nor creed.
His life was lived for others, for anyone in need.
Sometimes we'd be embarrassed by the funny ways he had,
But--I speak for his ten children--we're glad he was our dad.
And he was - A Father Like No Other
© Helen Dowd