There came a knock to my door, one cold and windy day,
There stood a tramp, very dirty and tired, and worn
From all the ills of this life which come our way
If we do not curb our wills to better ways than pleasure.
He begged for money, of which I had little, but offered food instead,
He entered my home,just as the family were ready to dine,
I filled his plate with food that was good, with an extra slice of bread
To soak up the last of the gravy, he ate till he was full.
.
I did not put him to sit with us around our table clean.
But fed him in the kitchen, with dirty dishes all around.
We gave him what money we could, and took him then
To the bus stop wearing some clothes that we had found.
That night when I retired to bed, I thought of my new friend,
Did I do all I could? What could I do more to help?
As I knelt beside my bed, a thought passed through my mind,
'When ye do it to the least of these' Was I really being kind?
If that had been the Master, would I not have placed him
At the head of our feast, with fine crystal and best plates
Instead of in the kitchen, well at least I let him in.
But I will always think, I let my dear Lord down
By having a poor guest eat at my kitchen table,
On my oldest dishes which were rather chipped and brown.
Instead of treating him equal to eat our family fare
Sitting all together. As though it were Him that was there.
Ann Margetson ©
Aug 4 1995
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