By Sharon Madrid

Next to my daughter
We sit, then stand,
Sing praises and clap
To the beat
Of the worship band
The pastor strums
Some musical notes
On an old banjo
his father once owned
We sit,
We pray
Our heads all bowed
We all give thanks
Some hands are raised
His sermon he preaches
stories and tales
of his two boys, then
John, Mark, Luke and Paul
One final prayer
An altar call
Go pray with Him
Don’t want to fall