The Little Black Dog by Jaye Lewis
The Little Black Dog
A Child's Easter Story
The little black dog
By the side of the road,
Watched Him carry
His terrible load.
His tail hung sadly
Where it once was proud.
Who could have guessed
That he'd follow the crowd?
But, then, he'd followed
His Master so long,
Patient and loyal,
His love burning strong.
Just a little black dog,
With no home of his own,
Could not be persuaded
To leave Him alone.
Thirsty and hungry,
He waited to feed
As his Master fulfilled
Every follower's need.
Then the Master would pat
The dog on the head,
And together He'd share
His food and His bed.
Tomorrow the crowds
Would again gather near,
And the dog would raise
An inquisitive ear...
"Happy are those
Who bring peace to others."
"Happy are they
Who treat all men as brothers."
As the Master preached,
He taught them to love;
Then He told them this mystery:
He'd come from above!
This brought accusations;
Some accused Him of fraud;
But the little black dog
Knew He was God.
With love in his eyes
And a faithful heart,
The little black dog
Would never depart.
So, he followed his Master
From place to place,
Always intent on
His wonderful face.
The little black dog,
In a garden one night.
Witnessed in awe,
A terrible sight.
Great drops of blood
Rolled down the kind face.
Never sleeping nor moving
The dog watched in place.
How he wanted to lick
The sweat from His brow,
And give Him some comfort
But didn't know how.
So, he watched and he waited
Patient and still;
And now he was following
Up a great hill.
Not a whine, nor a whimper,
Just a sad pair of eyes,
As he witnessed the pain,
That could not be disguised.
Beneath the Cross On Calvary’s hill,
The little dog watched, submitting his will.
His ears perked up
As he heard a voice.
'Twas the Master,
But, oh, he couldn't rejoice!
"It's finished! Into Thy Hands, My Father!" He cried.
Then the little black dog
Laid down and died.
It was over for him.
His journey was through.
But, he left a message
For me and you.
Follow the Master.
Be faithful and true;
For the Master will always
Be faithful to you.
© Jaye Lewis, 1985
Hello friends: This little poem was written during one of the lowest points in my life. The particulars, now, really don't matter, but I do remember it well. I sat on the floor, sobbing, and I poured my heart out to a God, whom I doubted. My faith had been stripped from me, and I couldn't believe that God really loved me.
Out of my sobs, and my fears, and from a child's heart, this poem was born. I wrote it on a scrap of paper with a dull pencil. In spite of my doubts, and my fear that my doubts just might be truth, a little girl's faith, from long ago, burst forth.
This poem is incomplete, much as my faith was at the time of my writing. I hoped, but I didn't know if I believed. I no longer had the faith of a child. So, to you parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents, or just to the child, still alive within you....
You finish the story. Tell your children about what happens next. Christ died. He was placed in a tomb, and in three days, He arose from the dead, by His own power. Tell them. Tell yourself. Even if you doubt. Christ is alive. He's alive! HE'S ALIVE!!!
I know this is true, not by my own knowledge, but by the grace of God. I asked that day for my child's faith to be restored. My journey was long, and the road often crooked, but God made my path straight before me. He followed me, until I had the strength to follow Him.
The dog in the picture is my own Happy Dog. He has been by my side for thirteen years. His muzzle is gray, and his eyes are dim, but his faithfulness never wavers. He has taught me more about God, than a thousand sermons, and he has taught me more about myself than I could have ever imagined. Happy Dog is the perfect illustration of the little black dog. In spite of my doubts on the day that I sat on the floor sobbing; in spite of my faint and wobbly walk; God placed in my heart that child's faith that I had lost.
I believe.
With love,
Jaye Lewis
