He only a man

Only A Man . . .

At first glance she looked like any other old woman. Plodding
along in the snow, alone, neglected, head bowed. People passing
on the busy city sidewalk averted their eyes, lest she remind
them that pain and suffering did not stop to celebrate
Christmas.

A young couple, smiling, talking, laughing, arms loaded with
Christmas presents, took no notice of the old woman.

A mother with two small children hurried by, on their way to
grandmother's house. They took no notice.

A minister walked by proudly carrying his Bible in his right
hand, like a well armed Christian soldier. But his mind was
stayed on heavenly things, and he took no notice.

If these people had noticed, they would have seen that the old
woman wore no shoes. She walked barefoot in the ice and snow.

With both hands the old woman gathered her worn button-less
overcoat at the collar to keep out the wind. She stopped and
stood bent and bowed at the bus stop. A red and blue scarf
covering her head, she waited for the downtown bus.

A gentleman carrying an important looking briefcase waited near
her, not too closely. After all, she could have something
contagious.

A teen-age girl also waited for the bus. She glanced repeatedly
at the old woman's feet, but said nothing.

The bus arrived and the old woman slowly, painfully boarded.
She sat on the side-ways seat just behind the driver.
The gentleman and the teen-age girl hurried to the rear.
The man sharing the seat with the old woman shuffled uneasily
and twirled his thumbs. "Senile," he thought.

The bus driver saw her bare feet and thought; "This neighborhood
is sinking deeper and deeper into poverty, I hate to see it,
I'll be glad when they put me on the College Park route."

A little boy pointed at the old woman.

"Look, Mother, that old lady is barefoot."

The embarrassed mother slapped his hand down. "Don't point at
people, Andrew. It's not polite to point."
She looked out the window.

"She must have grown children," a lady in a fur coat suggested.
"Her children should be ashamed of themselves."
She felt morally superior, because she took good care of her
mother.

A teacher seated near the middle of the bus steadied the bag of
gifts on her lap.
"Don't we pay enough taxes to handle situations like this?" she
said to a friend seated beside her. "It's this tax-cut crazy
Republican administration, her friend replied. "They rob the
poor and give to the rich." "No, its the Democrats," a gray-
haired man behind them interjected. "These Democrat welfare
programs just make people lazy and keep them in poverty."

"People have to learn to save their money," a well-dressed young
college man added. "If that old woman had saved when she was
young, she wouldn't be suffering now. It's her own fault."

And all these people beamed with satisfaction that their acumen
had delivered such trenchant analysis.

But, a kind businessman felt offended by this murmuring
detachment of his fellow citizens. He reached into his wallet
and took out a crisp twenty-dollar bill.
He strode proudly down the isle and pressed the bill into the
old woman's unsteady, wrinkled hand.
"Here, Madam, get yourself some shoes."

The old woman nodded her head in thanks. The businessman strode
back to his seat, feeling pleased with himself, that he was a
man of action.

A well-dressed Christian lady had noticed all of this.
She began to pray silently.
"Lord, I don't have money. There is no way I can help.
But Lord, I can turn to you in every need. Lord, I know that
you are a loving God. You make a way out of no way. Now Lord,
let your blessing shine on this old woman. Let shoes fall like
manna from heaven, so that this old woman can have shoes for
Christmas."
And the Christian lady felt supremely spiritual.

At the next stop, a young man boarded the bus. He wore a heavy
blue jacket, a maroon scarf around his neck, and a gray woolen
cap pulled down over is ears.
A wire running under the cap and into his ear was connected to a
Walkman.
The young man jiggled his body in time to music only he heard.
He paid his fare and plopped down on the sideways seat directly
across from the old woman.

As the young man's glance caught the old woman's bare feet,

His jiggling stopped. He froze.

His eyes went from her feet to his. He wore his expensive, new,
brand name sneakers. For months he had saved from his minimum
wage pay to buy these sneakers. Everybody in the gang would
think he was "so cool."

The young man bent down and began to untie his sneakers.
He removed his impressive new sneakers. He removed his socks.
He knelt down before the old woman.

"Mother," he said, "I see you have no shoes.
Well, I have shoes."

Carefully, gently, he lifted the old woman's crusty feet in his
hands.
He placed his socks and his fine sneakers on the old woman's
feet.
The old woman nodded in thanks.

Just then the bus arrived at the nest stop.
The young man left the bus and walked away, barefoot in the
snow.

The passengers crowded at the windows to watch him as he plodded
barefoot through the snow.

"Who is he?" one asked.

"He must be a prophet," said another.

"He must be a saint," someone suggested.

"He must be an angel," said yet another.

"Look! There's a halo around his head," somebody shouted.

"He must be the Son of God," said the Christian lady.

But the little boy who had pointed, said, "No Mother, I saw him
clearly,

He was only a man."
Jan Bagwell
God Bless
Please pray for Judy Pangborn , Hazel Bagwell , Rev. David and Hali Bagwell , Scott and Elizabeth and Emily Bagwell ,Mary Carpenter and her family , Frankie Wilson and her family , Rowland Shaw and his family , Jimmy Holaday , Nadine Stvan and her family . Mike and Dianne Wells and their family ,Melvin Mobley and family .Jan Bagwell you know I need all the prayers I can get !

The Game

The Game

When clouds are grey I never mind ,
Somehow it seems I always find
Some little joy to lighten care
And cheer me just by being there .
Life is a game we all must play ,
Each in his own and separate way ,
It all depends upon your view ,
Which way the world appears to you .
In every carnival the clown ,
Can only rise by falling down ,
For every man a set of rules ,
And only those who cheat , are fools .
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !

A Perfect Day

A Perfect Day
God stretches out His loving hand
His blessings to bestow ,
And guides us in our daily lives
Because He loves us so .

He fills our hearts with joy and peace
We’re always in His care ,
He knows our every need and want
And answers every prayer ,

He heals all pain and solves all ills
Which often come our way ,
His grace shines down upon us all
To create a perfect day .
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

There’s a gift that keeps on giving .
Do you know the gift divine ?
It’s the Babe of Bethlehem’s manger ,
Tis the Saviour , yours and mine .

For He brings so many blessings,
And they brighten all our way ;
There’s a gift that keeps on giving ;
Tis the Christ of Christmas day .

There’s a gift that keeps on giving ;
One Who came from Heaven afar .
Tis the Child the shepherds worshipped ,
And the wise men saw His star .

He is Master and Redeemer ,
And His voice our hearts obey .
There’s gift that keeps on giving ,
Tis the Christ of Christmas day
Jan Bagwell
God Bless

Frist Christmas In Heaven

First Christmas In Heaven
I’ve had my first Christmas in heaven,
A glorious , wonderful day !
I stood with saints of the ages
Who found Christ , the Truth, and the Way .

I sang with the heavenly choir ;
Just think ! I , who so long to sing !
And oh ! what celestial music
We brought to our Saviour and King !

We sang the glad songs of redemption ,
How Jesus to Bethlehem came ,
And how they had called His name Jesus ,
That all might be saved through His name .

We sang once again with the angels ,
The song that they sang that blest morn ,
When shepherds first heard the glad story
That Jesus , the Saviour , was born .

O , dear one , I wish you had been here ;
No Christmas on earth could compare
With all the rapture and glory
We witnessed in Heaven so fair .

You know how I always loved Christmas ;
It seemed such a wonderful day ,
With all of my loved ones around me ,
The children so happy and gay .

Yes , now I can see why I loved it ,
And , O , what a joy it would be ,
When all of my loved ones are with me ,
To share in the glories I see ,

So dear ones on earth , here’s my greeting :
Look up till the day dawn appears ,
And , Oh , what a Christmas awaits us ,
Beyond all our parting and tears
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !
This poem is in reminiscence my Brother , Larry Bagwell , he was more than a brother , he was best friend . He been in heaven for a few years now , but I would like to think , this is from him . The way I write these poems is , I sit and pray and what come in my head I write . I cannot add a verse or take one away . It only worked when I write what I feel I am given . I give all the glory to God my Father .To my friends that have lost love ones , I pray this brings some comforted to you .