Holy Thursday God in an Apron
Supper was special that night
There was both heaviness and a holiness hanging in the air
We couldn’t explain the mood It was sacred, yet sorrowful.
God in an apron, kneeling I couldn’t believe my eyes.
I was embarrassed Until his eyes met mine I sensed my value then.
He touched my feet He held them in his strong, brown hands He washed them
Then he handed me the towel and said, “As I have done so you must do”.