Now that the season of giving is over, it’s time to think of giving to those who received no gifts, nor had a feast.
Having served on the street among the homeless, housed poor and addicted, three examples are offered to consider removing it from our country.
The first scene is that of a cold fall night. Giving out sandwiches and refreshment, a young mother came by with a five-year-old son. He was poorly dressed and, upon receiving food, he sat on the frigid concrete to eat.
Looking down on a food-smeared face, he innocently looked up and said, “Sometimes I get hungry.”
Crack went my heart.
The second scene is that of a man who lived under a bridge sleeping on cardboard. He was intelligent and pleased to enter into a discussion.
Casually, without any purpose, he said, “At times I wake up in the middle of the night and wish for a glass of water.”
Crack went my heart.
The third scene is in a back alley where there was an elderly lady, face withered and eyes of unfathomable sorrow.
The air was frigid and she was clothed in a withered nightgown. She moved by, asking no quarter, fully resigned to her lot.
A profound anguish swept through me and a bewilderment as to how we could allow this to be in our midst.
It is clear why; there is a coldheartedness keeping it from being eradicated. It needs not to list the litany of reasons against its removal, for they are well-known and most can be refuted.
Those who glory in achievements of increasing economies and performing on the world arena are assured a place in the history books.
There is a greater judge than historians, and like all when the coil is unravelled, the satisfaction of life will be shattered by the words: “You have been weighed in the balance and found lacking.”
Crack will go the heart, and tears will well, but it will be too late.
Marcus Aurillus, a powerful leader of an ancient world, said, “Kindness is invincible.”
A greater man than he said, “When you have given to one of the least, my brother, you have given unto me.”
Terry Miller, Surrey