Mom steered her child away from it – “Enough,” she said, “is nine.”
Eight little missionaries to point the way to Heaven;
“Children make mistakes,” shrugged one, “God must need only seven.”
Seven little missionaries, when one began to mix
With peers backslidden and far from God; And then the count turned six.
Six future missionaries to preach “Christ is Alive!”
One’s goal became the dollar, And that left only five.
Five future missionaries to open salvation’s door;
One claimed, “I lost my burden.” And left the world with four.
Four future missionaries from sin to set men free;
To one, sin became a pleasure, so Those willing then were three.
Three future missionaries had glorious plans in view;
But after Satan’s sifting trials, The faithful numbered two.
Two faithful missionaries, when at first ten begun;
One gained a wife who would not go And that left God with one.
One little missionary, who heard God’s call divine,
Left all to serve His Savior Unlike the other nine.
Nine chosen missionaries – each with his own reason
Why to his call he was not instant, In and out of season.
Now God searches to and fro – nine vacant spots to fill.
He urges, “Who will go for Me?” And waits to hear, “I will.”