A Child Standing Alone

by Nancy Steinberg

Once I saw a child, small, frail,

standing alone in a bright hall.

Fearful, the child, standing alone,

clutching a ragged bag.

Eyes of the child, wide and moist,

seeing harm, hunger, want.

Shoulders hunched against cold uncaring

pinched, pummeled, pushed aside.

I smiled at the child, stretched out my hand,

gently touched the unkempt hair.

Friend, asked the child, hope lighting sorrowful eyes.

His hand met mine, a drowning grasp,

A child no longer standing alone.

Once I saw a child, hale, prim,

standing alone in a bright hall.

Excited, the child standing alone,

proudly displaying a brand-new bag.

Eyes of the child, shining and curious,

seeing opportunity, discovery, fun.

Body straining towards new adventure,

friendly, eager, assured.

I smiled at the child, stretched out my hand,

gently touched the beribboned braids.

Teacher, asked the child, wonder lighting inquisitive eyes.

Her hand met mine, a trusting grip.

A child no longer standing alone.

Year after year I saw a child

standing alone in a bright hall.

Fidgety, the child standing alone,

holding on to a special treasure.

Eyes of the child, saucers of seeking,

cups of needing, bowls for filling.

Arms wrapped tight or loosely hanging,

expectant, frightened, truculent.

I smiled at the child, stretched out my hand,

gently touched the bobbing head.

Love, asked the child, demand lighting anxious eyes.

A hand met mine, a heartfelt pledge,

A child no longer standing alone.