Hard Work Never Hurt Anyone
by Kathleen HighamWhen I was a little girl
I held my Father's hand
He walked me to his garden
Then gazed upon the land.
It was a labor of love
When after work every day
Seeing him in his garden
I would run to him to play.
He would pull me to the ground
Put my fingers in the dirt
Hard work never hurt anyone
No, it surely cannot hurt.
I loved my Father's garden
His roses were his quest
When on my knees I hugged him
Oh, that was the absolute best.
It never ever mattered
When sweat fell from my brow
The sun beat down relentless
I learned from him somehow.
My Dad toiled from dawn till dusk
For work had become his friend
Hard work never hurt anyone
He lived it till the end.
I could not believe I lost him
He was young, only fifty-seven
His words played in my head
The day he went to Heaven.
Hard work never hurt anyone
Those words come to me again
Hard work never hurt anyone
I whisper softly, Amen.
Hebrews 6:10
God is not unjust to forget your labor of love.
John 9:4
As long as the day is long, we must do the work of Him who sent me.
This poem was a finalist in the
May 2009 poetry contest
