Where is the Final Blessing in the Final Days of Our Lives?
The Paradox of the Poor at Thanksgiving
Photo By: Flickr/Jay DeFehr
He raises his glass for a glorious toast,
Thankful for warmth, wealth and success,
His demeanor says much as weakness is not,
In strength lies power and shows on him.
His brother is cold, poor and alone,
No longer a sibling by family affirms,
The tap for water allows a drop,
The wind blows snow across his bow.
The one with much will not give away,
His brother would take the scraps that fall,
It’s mine says he, the one with all,
Why do you cry my lowly brother?
A time to bless the Lord for much,
The wealthy brother laughs at God,
The poor and alone sibling prays,
For his brother to have what God will give.
We thank our Lord for so much we have,
Do we share with those who have not?
The poor are here and everywhere,
This is where God’s Harvest lies.
November 2017
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About the Author
I am an ordained deacon with the Diocese of Pittsburgh, since June 8, 1974. My current ministry is concentrated on writing spiritual reflections and poetry. I am married, with one grown daughter, and 4 grandchildren. I retired from the electrical industry after 58 years as an electrician, contractor, teacher in trade schools, and electrical inspector with a PA State license
