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a poor wayfaring man of grief project

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Remembering Rumbula: Preserving the memory of the WWII massacre in Riga

June 15, 2023 12:00 AM
In pris’n I saw him next, condemned to meet a traitor’s doom at morn. The tide of lying tongues I stemmed, and honored him ’mid shame and scorn. My friendship’s utmost zeal to try, he asked if I for him would die. The flesh was weak; my blood ran chill, but my free spirit cried, “I will!”
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BYU communications students premiere 5th installment of 'A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief Project'

March 30, 2023 12:00 AM
Three students of the BYU School of Communications, along with two members of its staff, went to the Dominican Republic to film the fifth installment of their mini-documentary series 'A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief Project.'
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Sharing living water: Improving the hydraulic resources in the Dominican Republic

March 30, 2023 12:00 AM
I spied him where a fountain burst clear from the rock; his strength was gone. The heedless water mocked his thirst; he heard it, saw it hurrying on. I ran and raised the suff’rer up; thrice from the stream he drained my cup, dipped and returned it running o’er; I drank and never thirsted more.
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“A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief” Project — Verse 2

November 17, 2022 12:00 PM
Once, when my scanty meal was spread, He entered; not a word he spake, Just perishing for want of bread. I gave him all; he blessed it, brake, And ate, but gave me part again. Mine was an angel’s portion then, For while I fed with eager haste, The crust was manna to my taste.
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“A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief” Project – Verse 5

November 04, 2022 05:00 PM
Stript, wounded, beaten nigh to death, I found him by the highway side. I roused his pulse, brought back his breath, Revived his spirit, and supplied Wine, oil, refreshment—he was healed. I had myself a wound concealed, But from that hour forgot the smart, And peace bound up my broken heart.
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“A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief” Project – Verse 4

November 04, 2022 04:00 PM
’Twas night; the floods were out; it blew A winter hurricane aloof. I heard his voice abroad and flew To bid him welcome to my roof. I warmed and clothed and cheered my guest And laid him on my couch to rest, Then made the earth my bed and seemed In Eden’s garden while I dreamed.
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“A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief” Project – Verse 1

November 04, 2022 01:00 PM
A poor wayfaring Man of grief Hath often crossed me on my way, Who sued so humbly for relief That I could never answer nay. I had not pow’r to ask his name, Whereto he went, or whence he came; Yet there was something in his eye That won my love; I knew not why.
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“A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief” Project – Introduction

November 04, 2022 12:00 PM
Introduction to the "Poor Wayfaring Man" project produced by students and staff mentors in the journalism program in the School of Communications at Brigham Young University.
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