Gleaming white it stood atop a hill;
Standing straight and tall and still.
Out the car window a site for my eyes,
An interruption to my boredom that had ridden for miles.

I remembered the first time I saw it many years before,
The first trip I ever made to the Florida shore.
I was twelve with my mom and sisters two.
Dad had passed; all of us feeling kind of blue.

There was a discussion about the big cross.
As to exactly what words were spoken, I am at a loss.
But I know it wasn’t that unexpected to see back then,
That is a cross, the symbol of a Savior who died to save us from sin.

Many trips to Florida since then have been taken.
The world has changed much, but my faith is unshaken.
My family, my children, and my grandchildren all,
Have seen and admired the cross so tall.

Little did I know on my last trip south,
“Look at that cross!” would never again come from my mouth.
Yes, someone has decided after seventy-five years,
The cross must come down, because of anti-Christian jeers.

Now, this Florida cross coming down is not alone.
Cross after cross seen on journeys will soon be gone.
What will my great-grandbabies see when they travel by?
Lord, please be with their generation is my cry.

As crosses come down, our prayers must go up.
For was on a cross Jesus drank from death’s cup.
The crosses, the symbols of that day, may be taken,
But our faith in our Savior must remain unshaken.