Christmas Shoeboxes; A Poem About Poverty

As a child I filled shoeboxes with Christmas gifts, toothbrushes, and ticker toys galore with my family every year. I used to wonder with delight at what joy these treasures might bring the child who received them. This week I found myself full circle, having the honor of delivering Christmas shoe boxes to children in need that someone else filled. Here is a poem I wrote after this experience. 

 

we drove from civilized to poverty in a flash 

we parked on dirt and I got out of the car 

walking through tall weeds littered with trash 

small children where pointing from a far 

 

they ran to us out of a shack they call a home

resembling the heartbreak of a desolate village

bare ground with horses skin to the bone 

standard of living not met, and nothing left to pillage

 

the small children burst out in smiles and ran 

they see us coming and hope for something to hold

a little girl clung to my side and my tears began 

she tried in her own tongue her truth to be told   

 

fascinated by the jewelry in my nose

and the phone we used to take pictures 

I noticed the girls lack of hope and clothes

longing desperately to dress her in scriptures

 

her shivering hands and feet were of concern 

so I tried sharing my own warmth with her 

but not wanting to receive with nothing to return 

she refused to let me part with my sweater 

 

touching my hair like she has never seen a curl 

I spoke the little Romanian I knew

“What is your name” I asked the precious girl 

“Bianca” she said with the shoe boxes in view 

 

we told the story of Christmas and the joy it can bring 

the children cheered with arms joyfully raised

singing carols of hallelujah to the newborn King 

as we preached that Jesus came to save 

 

It was time to hand out the gifts  

and that’s when the parents began to tell each kid 

“grab more than one or there will be fists” 

to steal to survive is all they knew, so that they did 

 

the adults too began to push and yell

opening our car to grab whatever they could 

but who can blame their want to rebel 

I sat sad because I understood 

 

we drove away but had to stop when we heard racket 

the trunk opened and we turned to see

that same girl who rejected my jacket

was taking the last of the boxes then turning to flee