(Tim) Back around 1985, Dad and Mud came up for the weekend to the small town in rural Wisconsin where Mary Lee and I were serving a yoked parish of two churches affiliated with the mainline PC(USA). Some years later, we voted to transfer into the PCA and changed our name to Grace Presbyterian Church.
As it happened, that Lord's Day was Palm Sunday and I was preaching on Jesus' Triumphal Entry. During the school year, the drill was Rosedale Presbyterian Church out in the countryside first, greeting the brothers and sisters of that godly congregation prior to worship. Then, worship over and the benediction given, I'd hop in the car and get to town just in time to give the call to worship in the town church.
Dad asked if he could go to the country church with me, so he sat under the first iteration of my Palm Sunday sermon. In the car on the way back into town, Dad handed me a small piece of paper with a poem scrawled out in the bright blue ink of his Lamy fountain pen, saying "This may help the conclusion of your sermon." Here's what he'd written: