Brown-eyed children, wide-eyed children,
With beautiful brown faces.
Look up, children of the mother continent.
See the strangers, the unknown.
"Sing for them," say their teachers.
They open their mouths
And their songs open our hearts.
Their images sear forever on our eyes.
Their sounds ring forever in our ears.

Brown-eyed children, wide eyed children,
With beautiful brown faces.
Look up, children of Africa.
Smile for us.
We want to take your picture,
Capture forever the look on your faces—
Wistful, uncertain, bewildered, still hopeful.

The Jesus who said
"Let the little children come to me," says to us
"Now you have seen me.
You have seen the face of God and lived.
And what difference will it make?"


Barbara Schlachter