From our hands to His Heart

I have a list of folks I know,
all written in a book.
And every year when Christmas comes,
I go and take a look.

And that is when I realize
that these names are a part
Not of the book they are written in,
but really of my heart.

For each name stands for someone
who has crossed my path sometime,
And in the meeting they've become
the rhythm in each rhyme.

And while it sounds fantastic
for me to make this claim,
I really feel that I'm composed
of each remembered name.

And while you may not be aware
of any special link.
Just meeting you has changed my life
a lot more than you think.

For once I've met somebody,
the years cannot erase.
The memory of a pleasant word
or of a friendly face.

So never think my Christmas cards
are just a mere routine
Of names upon a Christmas list,
forgotten in between,
For when I send a Christmas card
that is addressed to you,
It is because you're on the list
that I'm indebted to.

For I am but a total
of the many folks I've met,
And you happen to be one of those
I prefer not to forget.

And whether I have known you
for many years or few,
In some ways you have a part
in shaping things I do.

And every year when Christmas comes,
I realize anew,
The best gifts life can offer
is meeting folks like you.

And may the spirit of Christmas
that forever endures
Leave its richest blessings
in the hearts of you and yours.

-- Author Unknown
(Therefore, I'll "borrow" those
as my own sentiments to you. -- Fr. Steve + )

All alone he sat, on the sidewalk cold,

Ragged coat, beaten hat,

stooped over, looking old.

He asked for spare change.

For a coffee and a smoke.

Of all the people walking by,

who thought him just a joke.

He was just another homeless guy,

another bum on the street.

On the street, he'll probably die,

right at the Christmas shoppers' feet.

It's the time of good will to men,

when, for all, we're supposed to care.

We hear that time and time again.

Why then was he still there?

On the dirty side of town?

Where does this man go?

On his sodden way down?

Nobody knows about his past.

Nobody knows his sad story.

Why has he gone down so fast?

All the way to ruin from glory.

I came upon him on the sidewalk,

and put five dollars in his hat.

Right about then, we began to talk,

I joined him where he sat.

"Do you have a smoke?"

he asked as I sat down.

Soon he was enjoying his smoke,

there on the dirty side of town.

He told me the story of his life,

about the trail of abuse and neglect.

How his "died" whe he lost his wife,

how his family he began to reject.

He finally hit rock bottom.

He had nowhere else to go.

Where the booze had finally got him.

What now? he didn't know.

I said, "I know how you feel,

helpless and alone."

"You need a bed and a hot meal,

and someplace to call home."

"I'll send you to a good friend

who will help you on your way.""

And the bus fare I will lend,

you go and see him today.""

He runs the South-Side Mission,

on the other side of town."

"You talk to him, he'll listen.

Get him to show you around."

I gave him the change for the bus,

and heartily shook his hand.

I thought, "he's the same as one of us,

throughout this great big land."

As I watched him go down the street,

I wondered, "will he come back?

Will we ever again meet?

on the better side of the tracks?"

I realized it was getting late.

I had to get to a Christmas party.

I hurried to make my appoints date,

for eggnog and turkey hearty.

As I hurried on through the snow,

I wondered to myself,

"where does all our compassion go?

Is it put upon the shelf?"

At this Christmas time of year,

Let us think of those
who are with us all the year.

The homeless, the hungry, the destitute,

who live on our streets each day,

Let us show them a better route,

where they can find their way.

It's Christmas time,

do you care?

Will you help another one?

Come on people, show you care.

Do what the Master would have done.

Just think, if that was you,

sitting on the sidewalk cold.

Wouldn't you want some help too?

Or would you rather die in the cold?

-- by Bonnie Briggs
(based on the Christmas song, "Pretty Paper")

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STREET GUIDE LINES FOR PASTORAL ASSOCIATES -- as excerpted from our CONSTITUTION and CHARTER, "ENVISIONED HOPES" © 1982

• “Love your fellow Christians always. Do not neglect to show everyone hospitality -- for by that means some have entertained angels unawares.” (HEBREWS 13:1-2.)

• "Christianity is one beggar telling another where he found BREAD." (-- D. T. Niles)

• OUR MANDATE: “Is not this the fast I have chosen: to loosen the bonds of wickedness; to undo the bands of the yoke? Is it not to share your BREAD with the hungry, and to take the outcast poor into your home; to clothe those you see unclad, and not to hide yourself from your own flesh? If you do away with the yoke, the clenched fist, the wicked word, if you give your BREAD to the hungry and relief to the oppressed, your light will rise in the darkness.” (ISAIAH 58:6-7, 10.)

• "For I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you welcomed Me; naked and you clothed Me; I was ill and you comforted Me; in prison and you came to visit Me.” (MATT. 25:35-36.)

• “Incline thine ear to a poor man without grieving and answer him with peaceable words in meekness.” (ECCLUS. 4:8.)

• “To thy good deeds add no blemish, and no grief of words in any of thy giving. Shall not the dew assuage the scorching heat? So is a word better than a gift. Lo, a word is better than a gift; and both are with a gracious man.” (ECCLUS. 18:15-17.)

• “Those who do not perceive God purely and simply as The ONE, injure not God, of course, but themselves and, along with themselves, their fellows.” (-- St. Philo of Alexandria)

• “Love sinners, but hate their works, and do not despise them for their faults, lest you be tempted by the same. Remember that you share the earthly nature of Adam and that you are clothed with his infirmity.” (-- St. Isaac the Syrian)

• “The soul advances not so much by thinking but by loving much.” (-- St. Theresa of the Child Jesus)

• “Be attentive, my child, that you not judge any soul. For God steps aside from the one who judges his neighbor, and he falls, in order to learn to have sympathy for his sick brother.” (-- Elder Ephraim of Philotheou on Mount Athos, "Counsels from the Holy Mountain")

• “The Church is not a hotel for saints -- it is a hospital for sinners.” (-- AOCC Metropolitan Abp. Thaddeus Condrick)