Depending on the Kindness of Strangers,

 

           The Kindness of Strangers

I once watched a lady,struggle with her groceries,
She could not see the curb, nor the danger,
I reached out to help her, she drew away saying,
” I’m not depending, on the kindness of strangers”,

Some call it ‘Ego’, others call it ‘Pride’,
but the moral of the story, stays the same,
A helping hand’s a helping hand, no matter who’s it is,
They’re only ‘strangers’, til you learn their name,

I saw a family grieving, having lost their loved one,
Now at the ‘mercy’, of the funeral arrangers,
Folks collected money, but they turned it down saying,
“We’re not depending, on the kindness of strangers,”

Some call it ‘Ego’, others call it ‘Pride’,
but the moral of the story, stays the same,
A helping hand’s a helping hand, no matter who’s it is,
They’re only ‘strangers’, til you learn their name,

I saw a poor soul sitting, by the side of the road,
In her hand she held a cup, out to strangers,
Etched into her face, was misery, and yet a grace,
Completely at the mercy, of strangers,

I asked her “Tell me madame, how you keep your sanity,
while depending on the kindness, of strangers”,
She smiled up and answered, “It’s never seemed to me,
that in the Family of God, there’s any strangers”.

                                        c.d.m.3-18-2010