         by Daniela Daugherty  She walked in the pouring rain.… Whose child is this?
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WHO’S CHILD IS THIS
(poem written in India, summer 2007)
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Who’s child is this
with the burn-scarred face,
of a different race,
in this far off place.
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Who’s child is this,
who comes up to me,
with her childhood glee,
says, “Will you love me?”
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Who’s child is this,
who just wants to play,
living life today,
forgetting yesterday.
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Who’s child is this,
I turned and shed a tear,
it’s been 2 years,
mother left her here.
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Who’s child is this,
standing next to brother,
sold to another,
betrayed by mother.
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Who’s child is this,
hair needs a comb,
what’s a “normal” home,
future is unknown.
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Who’s child is this,
traded for a price,
often has lice,
slept with rats and mice.
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But…
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Who’s child is this,
life won’t be the same,
since in Jesus name,
the rescuers came.
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Who’s child is this,
who’s no longer shoved,
now knows from above,
unconditional love.
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Who’s child is this,
once forced to do things,
now smiles and sings,
a child of the King.
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Who’s child is this,
time to say, “goodbye,”
through my tears I sigh,
he says, “Please don’t cry.”
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Who’s child is this,
past his pain can see,
that his words could be,
a comfort to me.
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Who’s child is this,
of a different race,
in this far of place,
one changed by Grace.
