 Once, not long ago, I feared what the morrow might hold. Lonely, scared, never have been on my own. I did not think I could make it alone. But as the season changed, so did I. I became a little wise. For I realized I would live and not die. For God can mend a broken heart, a shattered dream, a life torn apart. He bides his time while meeting your needs. And as on the wings of a bird,