He stood alone at the well, and then
He saw me come--cast off by men.
My once proud visage was now brought low;
My heart was heavy, its tale was woe.
Forsaken,
abandoned,
rejected,
alone.
I saw Him then, by the well he stood;
His face was kind, His eyes were good.
I wondered then, I did not know
Who He really was--did it show?
He asked me for water--I wondered why;
He was a Jew, Samaritan was I.
It was then He told me what seemed so odd:
"You'd ask Me for water--if you knew the gift of God.
"And I would give it--the very best,
Living water, to give you rest."
This was confusing--He had no pail
To draw the water out of the well.
So I asked Him how, and He answered more
And we kept talking, while the day wore.
He told me everything I ever did!
I was amazed, and so I said:
"We know the Messiah will come someday,
"I am sure that He'll show us the way."
He gave a smile and looked at me:
"I who speak to you am He."
Please don't steal this, I wrote it. Thank you!
Piano Bookworm