The muted organ almost whispered “Rock of Ages” as parents knelt at home under the sheltering arms of that other Father, whose heart had bled with each thrust of the spear. “Let me hide myself in Thee” was the message. Those parents do not care that it is a beautiful morning. It makes no difference that the hands on the clock say that it is seven-fifteen. “Simply to Thy cross I cling” was their solace.
And then the organ led in prayer, the prayer that filled the hearts of the sons approaching the beachheads, and the parents in their Gethsemane:
“O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Be thou our guide while life shall last,
And our eternal home!”
For the first time voices joined the melody of the organ. Strong, confident, courageous voices ringing forth the affirmation, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.” And then the triumphant, trumpet-like tones of the organ, sounding their notes of gratitude to the “God of our Fathers,” whose strong arm is “our ever sure defense ... from war’s alarms, from deadly pestilence.”
In that moment, I murmured a prayer of gratitude that my parents had taught me the words of these hymns so that my thoughts had been led by the organ melodies to my personal unlimited reserves, that represent the rightful heritage of a child of God.
For my two children June 6, 1944, will soon have become another date to learn from the pages of a history book. I cannot know when their H-Hour will come. But I do know their reserves will make them more than victorious because theirs is the greatest inheritance in the universe—the “Faith of our Fathers.”
—Charlotte A. Young in “The Christian Advocate,” June 29, 1944. Used by permission.