One day when Jesus' critics crowded round,

He told these stories of the lost and found.

Suppose, he said, you had a hundred sheep

And one of them got lost outside the keep.

You wouldn't hesitate to leave the rest

And quickly go for that one sheep in quest,

Then when you found it, what a joyous sight!

You lift it to your shoulders with delight.

Returning home, you call the neighbors in;

The lost is found, you cry, let joy begin!

Likewise, I tell you, heaven's joy is vast

Because one sinner has come home at last.

Suppose again, a woman has ten coins,

Ten silver coins - her dowry in those times

But loses one of them. What will she do?

She lights a lamp and sweeps the whole house through.

Then when she finds it, all her friends come in

To celebrate - the lost is found again.

Likewise tell you, heaven's joy is vast

Because one sinner has come home at last.

Again he spoke: a man once had two sons.

The younger asked his father for the funds

that were his share of the inheritance.

And so the father gave each son his chance.

The younger boy left home and traveled far

And squandered all his funds in food and bar.

But then, perchance, famine came that way;

The greedy boy was hungry every day.

He almost starved, but then he found some work

Feeding a farmer's pigs from dawn to dark.

He fain would fill his belly with their feed

But no man came to satisfy his need.

At length he found his senses and he said

I know my father's servants are well fed

While here I starve to death.

I will arise And go to father and apologize.

I'll tell him that I recognize my sin

Against almighty God as well as him

I am not worthy to be called his son;

I'll ask if he'll forgive what I have done

And as a servant will he take me back?

So then he set out on the homeward track.

At length he came within the sight of home

And in the distance someone saw him come.

The father's eye with love's discerning glance

Was gladdened at this joyful circumstance.

He ran to meet his wayward son a pace

And held him to his heart in sweet embrace

And kissed him. Then the son began to say

His recitation, practiced on the way­

My father, I've transgressed against our God

And you ; the paths of sin I've trod ;

Forgive me for the evil I have done

I am not worthy to be called your son.

But lo! the father brushed aside his speech

And to his servants said - -o now and fetch

A robe, my best one, put it on my son;

A ring upon his finger be it done!

And shoes upon his feet. And then go out

and kill the fatted calf. For have no doubt

That we have a feast to celebrate

My son's return upon this very date.

For this my son was dead but is alive.

The lost is round, my thanks to God I give.

Likewise I tell you heaven's Joy is great,

The prodigal's return they celebrate.