The Little Church On The 7th Line

Each week we'd go to church,

Often sit in the back row.

I must admit at times, we weren't all that good.

Amidst the sermon and the singing,

When the noise level would grow.

We were carving our initials in those seats of wood.


We sang, "Jesus Loves Me", "Amazing Grace".

At Christmas, "Silent Night".

And I can tell you folks, it was just fine.

And In time I found God, discovered Jesus light.

In that little church on the 7th Line.


And every Sunday evening,

We'd walk that one and a half mile.

And I must say, we were grumbling along the way.

Throughout every season,

On the way home, we all wore a smile.

Remembering the songs we sang,

And what the pastor had to say.


Many of the folks I knew are gone,

They now walk down Heaven's hall.

But I'm so glad, they were with us for a time.

The influence they had on me,

Kept me from Satan's pit, and a fall.

God lives in that church, there on the 7th Line.


                --Tom R. McNeil