Poem May 23, 1983 Issue

From a distant village

MOIRA McDONALD

Could tribal customs,
superstition, fear,
hinder the healing power of God
from reaching her—
a mother standing at the door
in anguish,
her baby dying
(so they said)?

The answer came—
no birth nor death,
no swaddling clothes nor binding laws.
Thought soared above a human start
to perfect child of God,
Love-nourished and sustained.

Assured of prayer, she went her way.
Weeks later, she returned
with corn she'd grown,
a gift of gratitude.
The perfect smiling babe
safe in her arms: her proof.
God answers prayer.

MOIRA McDONALD

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