WHERE ARE MINE?

WHERE ARE MINE?

From under scanty cover of balcony overlay

You raise from cold, wet, concrete slab your grizzled head

And slowly reach for the proffered bread.

Thru livery ochre stained, blood shot eyes

You vacantly peer at the dark, rain pelting skies…

Through trembling, fever blistered lips I hear you say,

“Lady, from my position, here, where I lay,

if I may, I have one question to ask of you today:

Where are mine?”

I looked at him, and had no ready reply.

Where indeed were his family, his wife and/or children, his erstwhile friends?
Did he have a home somewhere? Was he once employed? Perhaps ‘dressed to kill’?

“Then Jesus asked, “Which of these three people was a real neighbour to the

man who was beaten up by robbers?” The teacher answered, “The one who showed

pity.” Jesus said, “Go and do the same!” Luke 10: 36-37

Note the beaten up man had no choice in who his ‘neighbour’ would be; it was up to a ‘neighbour’ to choose him to bestow his gifts and assistance on.

Thank You, Lord, for our daily bread. It does not really matter who we get it from, all good gifts ultimately come from You. Thank You that we have sufficient to share with someone in need, even if it is only a slice or two. And if we are able, in addition, to add a little cheese or jam, a coke or a pie, all the more reason to thank You. All the more reason for us to live with an attitude of gratitude. Help us to identify the need around us and to be Your hand extended, to reach out to the oppressed.