A child stands shivering in the night,

no blanket to snuggle in or teddy bear to colutch tight.

A thin coat is all she has to keep her warm,

and it's too small, even for her tiny form.

She stands in line to get a hot meal,

when handed the food she reveals

hands red and chapped from the cold,

her big eyes so youthful yet, somehow, so old.

She finishes up and turns to go home,

and what that may be, to me in unknown;

Perhaps back to a warm house to play with her blocks,

or perhaps all she knows of home is a box.

Who will care for this little one?

Who will have the courage not to shun

from her pleading eyes?

"Who will help me?" is what she cries.

"Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me."

-Matthew 25:40