An old woman falls to the street
and
gasps,
clutching
with arthritic hands to the gnarled cane—
her
one possession.
She cries out faintly, raising a
trembling arm
upward,
beseeching God for some merciful passerby
to
raise her up once more.
But no one stopped, no one looked
at
the old beggar as she died
in
the filth of the gutter.
The world kept spinning round and
round,
and
men in clean business suits made their way
to
and from work, hurrying back and forth
in
a daily pursuit toward nowhere.
No one slowed their pace for a
moment
to
stop and wonder who that old woman was,
that
decrepit creature of the streets.
And in that one eternal second, all
of Heaven stopped,
and
God began to weep.