Whenever you start feeling sorry for yourself, try to remember that things could always be worse…

I saw a stranger the other day…eating a sandwich from the trash.

Hunched over, clothes threadbare, eyes sad,  he ate quickly.

And then he limped on…

I saw a stranger the other day…tears of remorse streaming down her face.

In stillness, she stood…and forgiveness she sought

From a lonely grave.

I saw a stranger the other day…wheeling his chair through a closing door.

He struggled to get in…arms weary…with legs

stopping at knees.

I saw a stranger the other day…hugging a baby close to her chest

while watching her husband get taken away

in an ambulance.

I saw a stranger the other day…peering forlornly through windows so old.

Once more he sat, hoping…for children all grown

who now never came.

I saw a stranger the other day…a child connected to tubes and machines.

Her parents were signing the papers in grief.

She was already gone.

I saw a stranger the other day…white light shining ’round him and arms opened wide.

“Fear not”, he did whisper.  “I’m still here for you.”

“You’re not alone.”

 

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Comments (12)
  • Goodselfme on Dec 13, 2009

    God is with those that seek HIM.TX well expressed and I liked reading your well chosen words and messages.

  • brianberu on Dec 13, 2009

    Hi Muriel a very moving piece, and one I think we should al reflect upon at this time of year, I can,t remember the story properly, or it’s title but it’s a story of Jesus walking along the shorewith a man,and there were two sets of footprints in the sand, and the man said “there were times when you left me and there was only one set of prints in the sand”. Jesus replied “My son the times you only saw one set of footprints in the sand are the times I carried you”. your poem puts me in mind of this story, thanks

  • Judy Sheldon on Dec 13, 2009

    Beautifully put and hopefully the last person mentioned is not a stranger. We need to become close to Him.

    Thanks and God bless!

  • Debra. on Dec 13, 2009

    A very beautifully written and moving piece. We should thank god everyday for what we have because there is always some less fortunate. A valuable lesson, indeed.

  • Drew Diligence on Dec 13, 2009

    Utter crap!

  • Yovita Siswati on Dec 14, 2009

    Beautiful poem with beautiful message.

  • Glynis Smy on Dec 14, 2009

    Very expressive!

  • Christine Ramsay on Dec 14, 2009

    Wow! That is so beautiful, Muriel. There are so many people suffering in the world that if we can help just one it would be a real kindness. I love the last verse particularly.

    Christine

  • standingproud on Dec 15, 2009

    This story sadly is so true of our world.

    A very long time ago
    I have had to eat from the trash,and even steal food from people’s gardens under the cover of darkness.
    I was 7months pregnant,
    my husband had drunk all his wages.

    I see here that people openly even pick up butts and smoke them, some I feel sorry for,some I dont for many reasons…
    I so love this piece you wrote,thank you!!!

  • M J katz on Dec 19, 2009

    Thank you, everyone, for your kind words and support!
    I hope that Drew Diligence continues to search for authors that he will enjoy more on Triond.
    I do remember about a year ago that we had one writer who used derogatory remarks as bait to get others to read his writings and thus increase his profits.
    I do hope that Drew is not using this tactic and, in fact, truly thinks my writing is utter crap. After all…if I was pleasing everyone all the time, I would know that I am doing something wrong! Ha ha.
    Love to you all!! :)

  • mkd1788 on Dec 20, 2009

    great moral u have expressed..

  • Karen Gross on Jun 2, 2010

    What a beautiful and poignant poem! You are absolutely correct, No matter how much suffering one has, we don’t have to look far to see someone who has more.

    Michael J. Fox (actor with Parkinson’t) wrote in his autobiography that if a group of people got together and all put their problems in a pile, everyone would gratefully pick up their own problems and go home humbled.

    I say that in everyone’s backyard a pile of crap must fall. You could choose to sit on your pile and complain about the smell. You could look around at everyone else’s pile and compair them to yours. Or you could spread it out on the garden and grow flowers.

    Oh, and don’t worry about Drew. He only has that one comment that he puts on everyone’s poetry.

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