There was once a story of a widowed mother

Her only child went missing and never returned home since

So the mother stayed in her home alone and found a way to pass time

She baked and cooked as a hobby, cookies and cakes – pies and dumplings

 

This woman usually left her cooking at her windowsill

Usually soon after a mysterious man came by and took the cooking

She baked pies; the man would cut a slice without a word of thanks

Without being excused, the man would take some cookies from the cooling plate

This woman was deeply frustrated by this, but what angered her most

The man would never eat the cooking, just wrap them up and save them in his pocket

 

After this greedy routine, the woman was pushed beyond her limit

In a fit of desperation she baked and baked

She baked cookies and pies and dumplings –everything at once

And she noticed a vial of poison at the corner of the cupboard

Just as she moved the bottle of poison over the food she stopped herself

 

The woman put all her cooking at the windowsill and

As usual the man took a piece of everything

The woman watched angrily but the anger turned into chilliness

The woman saw the innocence in the man’s eyes and the quirk in his smile

The woman thought she was seeing her dead husband

Confused she sat by her window and fell asleep for the night

 

Morning came and she was awoken by a knock at her door

She opened the door and was surprised to see her son standing there

She wrapped her arms around her long-lost son

Tears streamed down the boys face as he told the story

 

“I was lost mom,

I fell and hit my head and that’s what I remember

I stood by the road starving as the sun went down

My stomach rumbled and growled

Everyone who passed just turned away and then there was this …

This good Samaritan,

He pulled food from his pocket,

All sorts of pies, cookies, and dumplings

The taste of that food nourished my soul, the warmth revitalized my memory

I remembered glimpses of my home and of you, mother

He was a strange man who didn’t speak much, but kind nonetheless …

He tells me that he goes around giving his food to others everyday

Whether it’s a stray dog or a desperate fellow,

And I was the first person he saw that night

I swear to you I would not be here in front of you if that man …”

 

The boy broke into tears as his mother stood astonished

She didn’t want to imagine the outcome if she had given poison to the man

On that specific night if the poison had been given to her son,

Karma, fate, “full circle” – or whatever word you give it- is a very powerful thing

 

 

 

Written by Thorne McFarlane (Fatal Dawn)