While we may not have possessed wealth and riches untold,

my daddy still managed to walk me over streets of gold.

He would lower his heart to bended knee,

and then up to Heaven above he would carry me.

The destiny of my soul became his deepest desire.

He pled for God to spare me from the furious flames of fire.

He knew the gift of salvation was one I would have to accept on my own.

So he began his prayers for me long before I was grown.

He never asked the Lord to burden me with a blissful life.

He knew my humbleness would be born while on my knees in strife.

He took the hand of his child, and put it in the hand of his Creator.

The true meaning of that moment would be revealed to me later.

God then took me, His small offering, and began to fulfill His plan.

My fate here was being directed by a Savior native to a faraway land.

Now when I go before Heaven while on my knees in prayer,

I thank Him for giving my daddy the wisdom back then to bring me there.

The power of those moments so many years ago,

is a shared secret only my father and my Father know.

Sometimes I wonder what my life would have turned out to be,

if my daddy had not taken the time to pray for me.