Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA
Billy was a poor, young boy
Who lived on the edge of town.
His father was a drunkard and
His mother quite unsound.
His clothes were tattered, ripped and torn;
His family numbered ten
But no complaint escaped his lips -
Young Billy was my friend.
When Billy asked to go to church,
His father gave a silent stare.
He didn't believe in foolish things
Like church, religion or prayer.
Each Sunday as I walked to church
And passed his house, I'd see
His small face at the window, calling
"Say hello to God for me!"
He'd have his face pressed to the glass
As he waved and called out happily
Those words that meant so much to him,
"Hey! Say hello to God for me!"
He went through many hardships
And the times were pretty rough.
Anyone with a weaker faith
Would have probably screamed, "Enough!"
But, every Sunday as I passed,
I knew what my next sight would be -
Billy's little smiling face
Calling, "Say hello to God for me!"
I guess you know what happened next,
The fire at the edge of town,
And Billy being asleep in bed
As his house burned to the ground.
Now, as I sit in church and pray,
I know where Billy has to be
As I whisper to the sky above
Now YOU say hello to God for me."