I came across this lovely poem:
He had never had much intelligence; he was as naive as a child of four.
He only knew that his name was William, which pleased him to know.
His body grew old, but not his thinking, which remained childlike and immature. There was not much he could give to society, but in church William was great.
He would always sit close to the elders, because it brought him near to the vicar.
What he liked best about the service was the singing, which in his way he has happy to join.
His thoughts about God were simple; God was a father, big, strong, and brave,
Who was waiting for him in heaven, and Jesus belonged to him, his big brother.
He had never been able to read one single word, and he’d never heard about a dogma.
But he had never had any doubts, because he believed every word his father said.
When he fell seriously ill that Wednesday morning, he immediately knew that it was his time to come.
He had no fears, no worries, because Jesus would join him on his journey.
Although he had never understood what sin was, akthough he had the simplicity of a child,
God found in him such a great faith, one you will seldom find in theologians.