A STRANGER AT THE DOOR
Everywhere was cold, the fire had burned very low,
Just a small candle to lead them where they should go,
The water pump frozen, no water came running out,
Nothing to eat, they were in dire need without a doubt.

Their clothes was wearing thin, darns were everywhere,
The cabin was draughty but some comfort it did bring
From the cutting ice cold wind and the falling snow,
They all prayed, then off to bed hungry they did go.

Parents and three children, how long could they really live?
They’d prayed for help, but who was around help to give?
A pile of wood, a loaf of stale bread, some help in any way,
They were starving and maybe dead by dear Christmas day.

A knock came to that lonely door and an old man stood there,
Old and bent and weary, heavy snow covered his hair,
They let him in and told they had nothing to him to give,
But he was welcome to shelter, that may help him live.

The fire gained new life it warmed the home right through,
And there on the table new bread, warm milk, butter too,
They stared in amazement at that needed precious meal,
They ate and drank, soaked up t he warmth and began to heal.

The old man fell asleep by the fire in the battered old chair,
The family went to their beds. Left him peacefully resting there,
In the morning he was gone, no trace, except a sack left behind.
And inside was much good food and clothes of every kind.

Through the cold the sack was never empty until did summer arrive,
When other fresh food was available and that they could survive,
Without that sack of food they would have died, they never knew
Who the old man ever was or how that sack did always renew.

M Ann Margetson December 12, 2001