The snowflakes fell on the young woman’s head
The cold hard pavement a dangerous bed.
Tears slipped down her pale thin cheeks
She’d been on the streets for just a few weeks
But already she felt the sting of despair
People looked through her – she just wasn’t there!
She took a few steps to a more sheltered place
The darkened night shielded her face.
Her once lovely nails were jagged and rough
She longed for kind words a gentle touch.
She shuddered with hunger, cold and despair,
“Lord, help me please”, was her whispered prayer.
She awoke from her sleep – someone was near!
But this stranger’s touch brought her no fear;
She was led to a doorway opened wide,
Hands that were gentle drew her inside.
A feast spread before her, such warmth and such light
Never before had she seen such a sight.
She stopped and remembered the stench of the street,
Drew back a little – whom would she meet!
But a wonderful Voice of such love and of power
Said “Come, my daughter, this is your hour!
You’re ready and dressed just as a bride,
Come close to me, come stand by my side.
In this place there will be no more fears,
No hunger, cold, sin or tears.
Forever you will be with me!
Come – take your place in eternity!”
They found her frail body early next day
Just more street rubbish to clear away!
Forms to fill, more work to complete
For a nameless girl with filthy feet
Helen Lockie – September 2011
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