By Jananie R B
The 7 o’clock morning mob was
On its usual hurried stride.
Suit, shoes, and ties done smart,
Bustled on the pavement wide!
An old man, amidst the feet that sped,
Sat on the sidewalk, habitually,
With his piggy bank and a board that read—
I’m blind, please help me! Blessed may you be!
Some passers-by, into his piggy bank,
Flipped a coin or two by chance,
While others maintained their usual pace—
Hearts of stone, upon a quick glance!
On her way to school, little Tina stopped,
Exclaimed at his message and shook her head.
Snatching the board, she scribbled onto it,
Smiling, she displayed her note and sped!
To his astonishment, as the day rolled on,
Not coins but notes filled his piggy bank.
Wondering what those magic words were,
He waited for the child he longed to thank!
Such appealing words of worth, he thought,
When—“Hi Grandpa, it’s me,” chirped she.
“My darling child,” cried the old codger,
“What were those words you wrote for me?”
“I wrote the same thing but in different words,”
She said, “I didn’t plead that you were hard hit!
Instead—‘It’s a beautiful day, but I only feel it in my heart,
'Cause through my God-gifted eyes, I can’t see it!’”