Dispatches for the Colonial Office: When You Were a Little Child with a Crayon

Saturday, October 17, 2026

Lawrence Hall

When You Were a Little Child with a Crayon

When first your hand, your little hand, picked up

A crayon, a brush, a pencil, a marker, a pen

And with your hand, your little hand, your pen

You flung your thoughts onto a paper pad

(Or onto your parents’ freshly painted walls)

You introduced your words into the world

You introduced yourself, your words, your soul

And Eden was happy again, with your poems

Running barefoot among the singing trees

(Perhaps God smiled and asked)

Whose are these hands, these little hands

Making fresh new words for my young and growing world?

Dispatches for the Colonial Office