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
 
 
 

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