EDITOR’S NOTE: Murray Coulter originally submitted this poem in 2007. He requested republication.
I had an experience yesterday as I left the crowded store,
I pushed my cart through the slushy snow as the rain began to pour.
As I fumbled for my keys, “Silent Night” running through my head.
I caught a glimpse of a homeless man, lying on a cardboard bed.
I put my groceries in my car and was going to drive away
But thought I’d better check first, just to see if he’s okay.
I walked to him holding my coat to keep out the rain and snow,
Then bent down beside him, his breathing was quite slow.
At first he didn’t say a word, his fingers were so cold.
I rubbed his fingers and his hand, and saw he was quite old.
I thought I’d say a prayer for him and slowly he did stir.
He looked up from his bed and said; “thank you, kind sir.”
His eyes were tearful, kind and gentle, not what I had expected.
He said, “You’re first to talk to me, I’m usually just rejected.”
Could you spare a coffee, and a blanket to shed the snow?”
I gave some change, and asked him home. But he said, “no.”
I said, “Good bye” and went to get a blanket for the homeless man.
Then I returned, gave what I had, and took him by the hand.
“What is your name?” I asked him; “Jesus” answered He.
“As much as you’ve done to the least of these, you’ve done it unto me.”
Murray Coulter,
Courtenay
