Corrie ten Boom on a Death-bed

Yes I could feel it

Third day now and flat on the bed

Strange tightening under the left breast

Friend and nurse fussing about me so.

But I had my ticket for the next trip

Folks wanted to hear my saga from the Camp.

They would accept prayer.

They would countenance healing and forgiveness.

Nope, my mission was not yet done.

I started to offer thanks.

In my heart’s voice

I told God of my love for Him

Told Jesus of my thanks to him.

For an instant I saw my Father

Happy Dutch watchmaker

And then the Camp

And my last earthly look upon his face

As they led him off.

With some dear Jews.

He would be waiting

Also my princess sister Betje.

She had been stacked like so much cordwood.

Shocking, undeserved translation.

And all those precious women

Bunk-mates, fighting

The monotony and humiliation.

Gathering, at night, together

‘Round the one hidden New Testament.

But not yet…not yet.

And the peace came

And the chest settled.

I could almost spot the time

When the blood flow smoothed.

When my own clock turned the corner

Unto recovery and renewed vigour.

I slept, contentedly.

In the morning my Friend bathed me.

And I put on that new dress

Heading for the Sun Porch.

Nope, mission not finished.

And so He tells me.

(1892-1983) Acts 14: 19, 20
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