A Little Child

a little child

black nor white

yellow nor red

knocked upon my door to enter in.

tiny child

eyes so bright,

spoke no words

as he walked into my life.

my eyes refused to see

the welts upon his body

his yearning, hungry gaze

I would not answer with my own.

thin, frail bones

I didn’t feed, I didn’t clothe

and as he held out

a lonely hand

I smiled

as I closed my door behind him.


but his face

remained before me

I could not forget the scars

his haunting gaze

bore through clenched eyelids,

I strove to wipe away the tears.

Try as I could

the blood would never disappear

from palms where nails

had pierced

and the eyes of every child

will not forgive

as He has done.

Author Notes

4 Comments for “A Little Child”


A moving and emotional poem, Becky. Forgiveness is a powerful virtue we must learn to have as Jesus had for us and those who were around him.


Tim Hillebrant


A striking poem, Becky.
I feel for the child in the piece. I can see where it would be hard to forgive such a thing, and don’t know that I could. Even though I know the act of forgiveness has more to do with the one forgiving, than it does with the forgiven.


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