She Gives Rainbows

“She was a beggar.” I said.

“No.” responded my daughter, as she continued the tale, “She was Homeless. And Disabled.  It said so on her cardboard sign.”

She’s so innocent.
Just shy of 21.
Not shy of beggars,
Whose ‘nothing left to lose’ Scary Power
Frightens me, like a contagion.
I don’t give anything.
Ever.

We send Donations to Institutions.
Proper channels, you know.

“Did you give her anything?” I asked,
Contemplating the outcome
Of Scary Power vs. Innocence

“Yes,” she said, “I gave her some change.  All I could afford.
    And a newly acquired gemstone.  A Rainbow Moonstone.”

    “We talked for a while about gems.  She said she used to collect them, too.
    When she was young.
    Like me.”

I stopped,
Suddenly humbled.
Our contributions:
(The tax-deductible dough-
Checks signed, stamped and sent)
Seemed suddenly,
Sinfully
Sterile.

And yet
We sent the world an Angel
Who engages the Disabled
    with dignified address.
And gives Rainbows
    to beggars.

Does that not
    count for something?
.