by John Ferris
There was a certain disciple in the town of Joppa,
Whose reputation was pure and behavior proper,
Never told a white lie, never uttered a whopper,
In doing good deeds, nothing could stop her.
Her name was Tabitha, translated Dorcas,
In extolling her virtue, her friends were quite raucous,
Her life was pervaded with charitable deeds,
She was always prepared, to fill various needs.
In modern times, some might call her dork,
(It’s not the done thing to relish good work),
Those same people would say, She’s a do- gooder jerk,
She should look out for herself, and enjoy every perk.
Even then there were critics, but nothing could faze her,
Back in those times, she was like Mother Theresa,
She was doing God’s work, that’s all that mattered,
Her works remembered, their memories scattered.
Dorcas got ill, then died before time,
She was still a young woman, just into her prime,
In the helping of others, she brought great relief,
Her sudden demise brought whole- hearted grief.
But Simon was near, whose surname was Peter,
His purpose in God was one day to meet her,
To show God’s great love and His mercy and might,
Word came to Peter of the good woman’s plight.
He came from Lydda which was not far away,
The people of Joppa didn’t know what to say,
They’d cleaned up the body and started to mourn,
Their faces were long and they looked quite forlorn.
They showed him tunics and garments she’d made,
And told him their feelings, how they felt dismayed,
That Dorcas had died who seemed the Lord’s best,
Why take her now to so early a rest?
Peter went in, but sent mourners out,
He wanted to pray in the absence of doubt,
He spoke just two words, Tabitha, arise. ,
Then presented her live; all were surprised.
The word of the deed spread far and wide,
So many had seen, it could not be denied,
Many that day came to trust in the Lord,
Their doubts overcome by the power of His Word.