As old bag lady I passed on the street;
she wore tattered clothes and rags on her feet.
Briefly our eyes met, and what did I see?
A heart sad and lonely was gazing at me.
So many scorned her and passed by the way,
but I felt a nudge that insisted I stay.
I sat down, smiled, and gave her a nod;
she said, "Gee you're nice, do you know my friend, God?
Her words made me smile. I said, "Yes, I do."
Softly she whispered, "Then you're my friend, too."
Her wide toothless grin to laughter gave way;
her blue eyes held hope for a happier day.
We sat side by side, and shared some chit-chat . . .
just me and old Flo, in her floppy red hat.
We fed the birds, stale bread and popped corn;
then from her purse came a Bible, well-worn.
Smiling, Flo said, "I've a beautiful home . . .
it's a mansion above, near God's heavenly throne."
My eyes grew misty and my heart went out
to this poor sweet soul who just wanders about.
I wanted to help, but she didn't want any;
I offered her money, she took not a penny.
"How 'bout a good meal?" I asked so sincere;
Flo patted my hand, "I'm not hungry, dear."
My new friend and I strolled on down the street;
an old crippled beggar we happened to meet.
"Wait just a minute," said Flo with a grin;
she took out a coin and gave it to him.
She who had little gave all that she had,
and I could see that it made her heart glad.
My pity turned into pure admiration -
Flo was God's servant, with true dedication.
As the day ended and the sun went down,
a flock of street people gathered around.
Young and old alike, a dozen or more,
each of them ragged, homeless and poor.
Hand in hand, they stood by the way;
I listened in awe as Flo started to pray.
She counted blessings and spoke words of praise,
and asked for God's care through all of their days.
Humbly I watched each person depart,
struck by the faith that each held in their heart.
As Flo and I parted, I thanked God above
for an old bag lady . . .
who taught me his love.
PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR,
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