I was the young child crying from the ache
of his swollen, empty, stomach that you fed.
I was the mother who had lost a child,
comforted by the loving words you said.
I was the teen you took into your home,
when she could no longer stand to be abused.
I was the old woman you passed by on the street,
and left there cold, tired, lonely and confused.
I was the middle ager that you called up to say hi,
when they felt like life had up and passed them by.
I was the neighbor who you held in your arms,
when her house burnt down with all that she had.
I was the young man who you encouraged when love failed,
and your life's experiance helped him not to feel so sad.
I was all of these and oh so many more,
on the street, in your home, or at your door.
For whatsoever you did to these my family,
that also was what you did unto me.
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