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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1396542-the-old-lady
Rated: E · Other · Religious · #1396542
i wrote this a while ago didn't critique it, just posted it. the ending is special to me
I walked the streets each Sunday morning
And through the rubbish I see her yawning
Bright and early and with a smile
She’d wipe her face with a black oily towel
Sometimes I’d stop and stare a bit
And frown at her world---an alley ---a pit
How is her spirit so full of bliss
When she sleeps in the rain
Lays her head on mist?
When it thunders, she’s sheltered by a dim holy sheet
Her clothes withered and tainted
Shoes barely fit her feet
Her hair is like brillo, kinked up and pulled back
But she admires herself in a small mirror on a tack
Nailed up on her cardboard
That’s all she’s to go in
When the nights are freezing and the air is thin
No company, no conversation, no amusement at hand
But she’s glowing so brilliant— and I can’t comprehend
Poor, poor woman I say to myself
As she takes her belongings from a wooden shelf
She gathers her things and begins her day
Puts her coat on and is on her way
Typically I walk off, continue to Sunday service
But today I didn’t attend as I felt a bit curious
Where does she go and what does she do?
How does she eat? Who gives her food?
So I followed her footsteps but remained discrete
As she turned out the alley and on to the street
I was a distance away but could hear her croon
An uplifting hum as she walked to the tune
Just merry and happy and I ask ‘For what?’
She walks with all she has and sleeps in a hut
But she just kept striding to her destination
And I kept following in fascination
After a few blocks, she stopped at a corner
In front of this building that looked like a shelter
In front were two men looking beat up and meager
Both crippled, they walked down the steps, anxious to greet her
She pulls out of her bag some regular t-shirts
They hold out their hands, faces lit up like fireworks
They take them, they thank her and stumble back to the steps
She walks off again, her belongings they kept
A few blocks further she came to an orphanage
That sheltered children of the underprivileged
Outside was a bunch of little ones frolicking
Who stopped dead in their enjoyment when they saw her walking
As they approached, one had a large sack
That he handed to her from behind his back
she opened it and pulled out a bag of meat
large loaves of bread
shoes for her feet
pillows and sheets and clothes to warm her
fresh water, some snacks to feed her hunger
she cried tears of joy and thanked each and every one
they gave her a hug and went back to their fun
she kept down the street
and the last stop she went to
was someone like her
who was homeless too
this person who sat on the stoop of an abandoned building
offered her a seat as they began talking
as I looked a bit closer, I could see him shaking
‘not too cold outside’ he must have been aching
she reached in her bag and pulled out some meat
a few loaves of bread
and the shoes for HIS feet
she fed him some water and said her goodbye
said ‘see you tomorrow’ and waved and walked by
does she not need those shoes for herself?
She didn’t have any others that she took from that shelf
Too many questions running back in my head
I had to stop and ask why she did what she did

So I did

And she said


In the eyes of this world, I am poor
But by faith I live and that is so much more
Before, I could not give
Had my hand out to receive
Stole from corner stores just so I could eat
But God has promised me a world beyond this one
If I obey his word and give thanks for his son.
These things are not much to many I know
But to me, they are worth as much as gold
Yet I give to those in need, because the Lord has given to me
I know that I need them, but the Lord I need more
Everything I have given, He will restore
I am the homeless, overlooked by society
Walked over by people judged by my poverty
But I tell you now, don’t feel ‘sorry’ for me
For I am richer than most
By my faith, I am free

© Copyright 2008 KelleyMarie (kmarie at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1396542-the-old-lady