I met an old man whose cloths were torn
In his hand was a Bible, it was marked and worn
I said Sir, where have you been?
He said, Montana I think, I just canít remember when
I said, why did you go? Was it do or die?
He said, Jesus sent me, I donít know why
I said, what did you see?
He said I saw a little boy, being buried under a tree
His parents were grieving; there was tears in their eyes
For that little boy, under the Montana skies
I said Sir, what then did you do?
He said, I told them about Jesus, just as Iím telling you
I said, Sir you havenít said much about Jesus today
He said, I donít know much, for I am only clay
But I did mention the little boy
His parents whose loss left them with no joy
Look around you son, and you will see
That Jesus is in you and he is in me
I said Sir, would you sit with me a while
I just lost my wife, and I cannot smile
He sat with me a while, under an old Oak tree
It was there he told me about Jesus
He walked on down the road
Was it Angel or man? I will never know
So if you should meet an old man with a cane
A worn Bible in his hand, who canít remember his name
Let him tell you about Jesus, youíll be glad he came
You will smile again; you will never be the same.