Lost little girl, now at last found,
Standing with questioning adults all around;
"How did you find her? Where had she been?"
Yet still you stand there, all calm and serene;
While mother bends down, and with tear-choked cry,
Loving whispers, "But why, darling - why?"
Lost little girl with your ice cream cone:
Still unconcerned, in a world of your own.

Are you dear reader, wandering too,
Purposely doing what you want to do?
One of the crowd, who desires a "good time,"
Lured by the world's gaudy glitter and shine;
Headstrong and proud, on your own pleasure bent;
Knowing not, caring not, that God has sent
His only Son: at ineffable cost,
To bring you back from the realm of the lost!

Wandering Child - Oh, why do you roam?
Hear how the Father is calling you home;
Loving arms aching to gather you in;
Loving heart breaking as you prefer sin;
Eternal glory in Heaven so fair,
A Saviour who died so that you might be there.
Will you refuse Him and go on alone,
Still satisfied with your ice cream cone?

From an incident in Jan's life.