The old man
stood there shivering,
His coat was
frayed and torn...
The shoes he
wore were past repair,
The leather thin
and worn.
He watched the
people passing by,
Through eyes
dimmed now by age...
Demeanor quiet
and passive too,
No sign
of smile nor rage.
His best years
now behind him,
No longer could
he work...
His head would
nod as if in sleep,
Then straighten
with a jerk.
I'd seen him
many times before,
But this time I
took note...
As he shivered
in the cold,
Tugged at his
worn out coat.
This time I
stopped, confronted him,
To
ask "Where do you live?"
It broke my
heart to hear the words,
He found,
then sought to give.
"I live where
there is shelter,
If I can find a
place...
My job to study
others,
Look for
kindness in their face.
I listen for
infliction,
In every voice I
hear...
I touch the
hearts of just a few,
But not enough I
fear.
For those who
stop and speak to me,
Will surely find
reward...
That comes one
day from kindness shown,
And brandished
like a sword."
I reached then
for my wallet,
Looked down to
count some bills...
Looked back to
where the man had stood,
And felt the
touch of chills.
For he was gone,
no longer there,
Like he had
never been...
And yet I knew
deep in my heart,
That I had made
a friend.
I never saw him
after that,
But each winter
I remember...
The little man
who touched my heart,
And warmed up my
December.
© 12/12/08 Loree
(Mason) O'Neil
Midi playing is:
Teardrop
