Trudgings

Somebody’s Mother

The woman was old and ragged and gray

And bent with the chill of the winter’s day.

The street was wet with a recent snow

And the woman’s feet were aged and slow.

She stood at the crossing and waited long

Alone, uncared for, amid the throng.

Of human beings who passed her by

Nor heeded the glances of her anxious eye.

Down the street, with the laughter and shout

Glad in the freedom of “school let out,”

Came the boys like a flock of sheep

Hailing the snow piled white and deep.

Past the woman so old and gray

Hastened the children on their way.

Nor offered a helping hand to her -

So meek, so timid, afraid to stir

Lest the carriage wheels or the horses’ feet

Should crowd her down in the slippery street.

At last came one of the merry troop

The gayest laddie of all the group;

He paused beside her and whispered low,

“I’ll help you cross, if you wish to go.”

Her aged hand on his stong young arm

She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,

He guided the trembling feet along

Proud that his own were firm and strong.

Then back again to his friends he went

His young heart happy and well content.

“She’s somebody’s mother, boys, you know,

For all she’s aged and poor and slow,

“And I hope some fellow will lend a hand

To help my mother, you understand.

“If ever she’s poor and old and gray

When her own dear boy is far away.”

And “somebody’s mother” bowed low her head

In her home that night, and the prayer she said

Was, “God be kind to the noble boy,

Who is somebody’s son, and pride and joy!”

(by: Mary Dow Brine)

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I showed this poem to my little boy and he was quite sad for the old lady especially when I told him time will come, if God permits, that I will be old too.  He totally grasped the meaning of the poem and told me that he will show kindess to all so that the favor would be returned to me. I was so touched hearing this from a little child.  I thank God I am blessed with a kid like him.