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Rated: E · Poetry · Inspirational · #2102776
Homeless and desperate, a woman struggles to find food for her children.
A Miracle Christmas

By

E C Wesch



Carolyn's coat was ragged, threadbare.
Even pulled tightly, it didn't keep out the cold.
Cautiously, she walked through the mounting snowdrifts,
afraid if she stopped, she couldn't go on.

The Mission, was still too far away.
She had to get there, before clothing and food ran out.
Two young lives depended upon her,
but the weather was cruel, and hindered her way.

The windows she passed, twinkled with lights.
No time for window shopping, or wishful dreaming.
Up ahead, Santa's bell, rang loud and clear,
with no money to offer, she crossed the street.

Ashamed, of her homelessness, her shoulders sagged.
With head tucked down, she started to run.
The frozen, slushy streets, hidden by new fallen snow,
made each crossing, treacherous.

The crowds, seemed impossible to navigate.
Breathing heavily, gasping for breath, she pushed onward.
Each chilled breath, a painful reminder,
of the icy wind, and her ebbing strength.

The business district, ended abruptly.
Twinkling lights, no longer lined the streets.
Shadowy figures, appeared out of nowhere,
as the billowing snow, intensified.

The Mission's lights, barely visible in the distance.
She was almost there, and thought of the treasures inside.
With painful, frozen hands and feet,
she staggered forward, reaching anxiously for the handle.

Locked. "NOOOO!" she screamed.

Carolyn pounded, but no one answered.
Her tears froze, on reddened cheeks.
Disheartened, she slid limply, to the ground
ignoring the cold, frozen pavement.

"Are you alright?" a kind voice asked.
"It's too late," was her hoarse reply.
"It's never too late," the crinkled voice said,
"to lend a helping hand."

"What's so urgent, for you to be out here?"
"My children will freeze without warm clothes."
Although the gray in his beard, outnumbered the dark,
his twinkling eyes, filled her with hope.

"What of your needs, do you have a home?"
A shake of her head, her sad reply.
"Come, let us gather your children,"
the old man said, grasping her freezing hands.

His car was nearby, they drove ten blocks.
The temperature, rapidly dropping.
He found them shivering, in a cardboard house,
roof sagging, under the weight of the glistening snow.

"Go get your children, my car is warm."
He watched her crawl inside.
She gathered up their meager possessions,
and led them to their savior, waiting outside.

The home was grand, he lived alone.
His wife had passed, and children grown.
The bath was warm, the food was hot,
the beds were soft, as angle's wings.

A miracle happened that Christmas Eve.
A family of three, now a family of four.
Cocooned by the warmth, of a stranger's love,
they now called...Grandpa Gabriel.


61 lines
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