A father had two sons, and not wanting to wait,
The younger son asked for his share of his father’s estate.|
This son gathered his belongings, as if in liberation,|
set off to a hill country to live a life of dissipation.
His entire share was squandered on a carefree spending spree,
There was nothing left. He’d spent everything, you see.

He had at last it seems run out of any luck.
He found himself in dire need.  A famine now had struck.
The son had grown so hungry.  For him there was no bread.
He longed to eat from the pods by which the pigs were fed.

His father’s workers were well-fed, thought this son, the younger,
He himself was dying, dying now from hunger,
He planned to find his father, to him say something true:
“Father, I have sinned against heaven… against you…

At this point the desperate son, now with no more pretenses,
Set out to his father’s house, he had come to his senses.
The son got up and back to his father he went.
He would return quite humbled.  He went home to repent.

The son was a long way off, when his father’s eyes caught sight,
Of his son returning home. The father ran with all his might.
He ran to his younger son, whom he had so dearly missed,
With compassion he embraced his son and gave his child a kiss.

Then the father sought to celebrate, his son who far-off wandered.
This son who went off with his share, and his share then squandered.
He would slaughter the fat calf, for a great celebration.
The finest robe must be brought out—there was such jubilation!

The finest ring for his finger! Sandals upon his feet!
The father would celebrate with a fine and joyful feast.
This son of mine was dead, and has come to life again;
This son of mine once lost is found.  To this we say Amen!

Dear Father up in heaven, we have daughters and have sons,
Who left home, left the truth, fled faith on the run;
We await their coming home to faith, to truth, to You.
It seems that sometimes praying is all that we can do.

Father help them now to yearn, for Christ’s most Sacred Host.
Help them to love the Gospel, to love the Holy Ghost.
Won’t You Father take from them their troubles of the day,
Let the fallen life they live collapse and then give way.

Let them know how we await with love for their return.
Send grace upon their wounded hearts, may Your love they not spurn.
Shower them with wisdom, may they pine for You and truth.
Give them true repentance for their wayward sinful youth.

Humbled, call them back to You, to them may You run.
May You soon be running to all our daughters and our sons.
No matter what they’ve squandered, no matter where they’ve roamed.
May our prodigals come back to You, may You welcome each one home.

AMEN