December, 2013 – Christmas Miracle in the Ghetto


Christmas Miracle in the Ghetto

By Carolyn Devonshire and John Moses Freeman

Peering at the radiating faces of happy families

So much joy emanates from well-to-do children’s sparkling eyes

Wish I could replace the grief, put smiles on the faces of my sons

Without a glimmer of hope even promises of warm meals would be lies


In the brown eyes of my sons, the same eyes their mother, my wife

Sadness the sacrifice, a courageous mother giving life

So great a zest for life she sacrificed to give her sons life

But now greed hath put her seed in peril and my world in strife


No “Help Wanted” signs in the windows of Main Street’s bustling stores

The aroma of fresh bread wafts tauntingly from the bakery

With my hands in pockets, finding not even loose change

Overcome with hunger and jealousy, should I resort to thievery?


Mind reeling, contemplating abating moral principals

Suddenly appear familiar brown eyes amid face so dear

The image of deceased wife, Spanish born eyes filled with tears

Speaking, “Abe, the Lord is gracious, walk until head is clear”


I follow the light in her warm eyes reflecting in glass windows

They lead me down the road to a park at the end of town

Dressed in ragged clothing, a man sits with a smile of peace

Breathing white puffs in frigid air, this gentle soul sees my frown


The message is plain, as my fears begin to clear

There is a greater depth in a soul of love well kept

The night is far spent; I kissed the hand of this gentle man

He smiled sweetly and said, “Lift up heavy head from dread”


I look up to see sun glistening on snow-laden pine boughs

It’s here, Christmas Day, and I’ve left my children alone all night

An ache in my heart compels me to race quickly back through town

Breathlessly, I reach my porch unprepared for a welcome sight


Hearing laughter within, I smell, yams, turkey and ham

I open my door, on the floor, presents piled high as well

Laughing with glee, sons kiss me, sparkle of brown eyes I see

Sparkling brown eyes, of Spanish descent, love is evident


“From where in the world did all this come,” I ask my sons

“Beautiful lady with Spanish brown eyes, stopped at our door

She said a strange thing, as on the floor our gifts were lain,

‘Tell Abe keep the faith; a mother’s love is stronger than the grave.’

Her hugs and kisses, will be greatly missed!  Who was she, Daddy?”