Jesus' Child

On a howling wind,
drifting snow,
frigid winter's night
a young mother,
sits patiently with her toddler.
It is not as if she had a choice.
Single, poor, Puerto Rican.
Her mixed race two year old
looks like Jesus' child to me.

So she sits hour after hour
patiently,
at least outwardly so.
Waiting her turn
to learn what meager dollars
a volunteer prepared tax return will bring.
She should be dancing, drinking,
in some college bar.
Living care free.

Has she made poor choices?
Perhaps.
But with two year old in tow
the choices that she has made
seem distant to those in society
who forget
that Jesus' child
wants a cookie.

And at the end of the night
a mother's bashful smile
and humble gracias says what I see:
Blessed art thou
amongst women
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb:
Jesus' child.