Mary’s Child

We came to clear the land.
To save the child, convert the man
but all we could do was watch them die.
It seemed that every soul we saved was destined for an early grave
and the brothers barely stopped to question why.

Chorus
When we boarded a ship from France it seemed like we’d have a
chance to do God’s work out in the cold and wild.
But every deathbed conversion was just another sad perversion.
I wonder what became of Mary’s child.

In the village of Ste. Marie I saw her.
She was twenty-three.
I thought that we would help to ease her pain.
“My mother and father have died. My husband’s dead.
They’re gone.” She cried.
“My unborn child and I remain.”

Chorus
When we boarded a ship from France it seemed like we’d have a
chance to do God’s work out in the cold and wild.
But every deathbed conversion was just another sad perversion.
I wonder what became of Mary’s child.

She gave her new son life but it was something she could not survive.
We buried her beneath a Christian name and the boy was taken back to Chartres.
Forever he would live apart.
I know nothing of the man that he became.

Chorus
When we boarded a ship from France it seemed like we’d have a
chance to do God’s work out in the cold and wild.
But every deathbed conversion was just another sad perversion.
I wonder what became of Mary’s child.

Every deathbed conversion was just another sad perversion.
I wonder what became of Mary’s child.

Nathan Rogers