"My name's Tommy, I'm a cripple, and I want to hear you sing.
For it makes me feel so happy. Sing me something, anything."
And then Jessie answered smiling, "I can't stay here very long,
But I'll sing a hymn to please you; one I call the glory song."
So she sang to him of heaven, pearly gales, and streets of gold,
Where the happy angel children are not starved or nipped with cold,
But where happiness and gladness never can decrease nor end,
But where Jesus reigns eternally, where time will never end.
Oh how Tommy's eyes did glisten, as he took in every word,
As it fell from Singing Jessie. Was it true what he had heard?
And so anxiously he asked her, "Is there really such a place?"
And a tear began to trickle down his pale little face.
"Tommy, it's up above the sky,
And if you will love your Saviour, you will go there when you die.”
Then said Tommy, "Tell me, ‑Jessie, how can I the Saviour love,
When I’m down in this here cellar, and He's up in heaven above?"
The little ragged maiden, who had heard at Sunday school,
All about the way to heaven, and the Christians' golden rule,
Taught the little crippled Tommy how to love and how to pray,
Then she sang a song of Jesus, kissed his check, and went away.