By Beth Johnson

Recently, we returned to the US to get our home ready for sale because it is too hard for our children to maintain it while we are gone. While cleaning out the laundry room and a shed and getting ready to haul trash to the dump, I found a note in my mother's handwriting on very old yellow paper.

Mother has gone on to her reward, but she had written:

"I copied this from one of the missionary booklets ”I think one of our ladies' Bible class books. But you, Beth, said you did not compose it. OK, another Beth Johnson did, and it is good. Keep it."

Beth here again:

Actually, I may have written the poem, because it seemed strangely familiar to me. I can remember having those very thoughts anyway. Judgment Day will tell it all.

Reflections: On Adjustment to the Mission Field

by Beth Johnson

There are hills that I have climbed

And streams that I have crossed.

Down roads I shall ever wind

To find what I have lost.

Dreams I have dreamed and hopes I have had

Of better days to come,

But my days and my nights

Are better far than some.

To be content in the place I am

Is what I wish for now.

To settle a mind and calm a heart

Is only wise but how?

I work with a will about my task

Of household chores each day.

And pray that I can easily cope

With whatever comes my way.