Random Liturgical Musings 7

I found a religious card inside a secondhand book I purchased and thought the accompanying poem should be published because of the controversy of holy days being holidays. I have only included the first and last two stanzas.

"Don't fret, my child, Good Friday comes,
Twill be a holiday,
Father will have no work to do,
But be with us all day.

We'll join the party to the sea,
And we shall have good fun,
The child looked up in wonder
When her Mother's speech was done.

No, darling, may God forgive
My heedless, thoughtless ways!
Twere better sure to go to Church
And say some words of praise

Father will have no work to do,
We'll go together here,
And thank the loving Lord Who bought
Our Holy Day so dear."

I have been meaning to put this up since listening to the radio and hearing a football commentator lament that Australian Rules was the only sport not having a game played on Good Friday, a day on which the competition would be able to draw a substantial crowd. Presumably everyone has nothing better to do than spend an afternoon watching a piece of inflated pigskin flying through the air and forty-odd men knocking each other about trying to get hold of it.