Poverty - Poem by joana bluementhal
One noon when others were taking a nap,
Litttle Susan lay on her mother's lap.
The toddler held her rag doll near.
as her mummy sat brushing her hair.
Hesitatingly she asked -' Oh! mumma dear,
why do you think God made us poor? '
The mother stared at her for a while,
and then replied with a warm smile-
'God made us poor 'cause he loved us most,
He made us poor and kept us close.
He deprived us of food and clothings even,
but blessed us and gave us the kingdom of heaven.'
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