I walked where Jesus walked today
and trod the path He trod.
In the Garden of Gethsemane
I knelt where He prayed to God.
I climbed the Mount of Olives,
I heard His voice so clear,
It echoed down the mountain,
fell soft on listening ears.
I walked the road to Calvary
where He suffered and died.
There on the Hill of Calvary,
on the cross He was crucified.
Chorus
His cross is not there now,
time washed away His blood.
But no amount of time
could wash away that crimson flood.
The crimson flood which was the blood
that flowed from Jesus side.
The crimson flood that cleansed my soul
and washed away my pride.
By Nell Berry
Bio: Nell Berry is a published author of one book, Growing up in Missouri and Other Short Stories. She is a mother, grandmother great grandmother and homemaker. Her favorite things to do are writing poems, short stories and song lyrics, going to church and spending time with her children and grandchildren. She likes to sew, crochet, knit and cook. Her husband of 57 years, who is 76 is a jack of all trades. His specialty is woodworking, making furniture for friends and their children and grandchildren. They formerly lived on a small farm at Mark Twain Lake in Missouri. They recently moved to Alabama when their son was called into the ministry and moved to Alabama and asked them to move with him.