The Priest and The Beggar Woman
“They are a real nuisance out there
Cluttering up the steps with their bowed heads
Bowed as if in prayer
Asking for even the smallest coin
They really make the entrance look untidy
And they are unclean”
Said the priest to the bishop
As he poured another glass
Of Château de Stinking-rich
She had tried before to get help
From behind those thick oak doors
Gazed at the colours of the windows
With their depictions of the saints
Looked at the silver decorating the altar
And that huge painted barometer
That showed how much had been raised
To restore the roof of the church
“I don’t mind them applying
They have a right to that
But letting them in
Well that is something very different
After all
They are not even of our faith”
The bishop was certain he was right
As he sipped from his glass
And took a bite
From his salmon and cucumber sandwich
Crusts removed
Of course
Now she begged outside on the steps
Denied the right to work
Let out of the walled centre
For just a few hours a day
Service days were poor
Most just passed her by
Being careful to look the other way
“Do you have those tickets for Lords
Should be a great game
Pretty evenly matched”
Said the priest
Looking forward to a lunch
With the members
Perhaps he would also get an invite
To Wimbledon
No harm in praying for that
A stranger passed by
Dropping several coins in the bowl
At her feet
Then another and another
The coins were falling into the bowl
She looked up seeking their faces
But they seemed to be hidden
The bowl was filled
She prayed silently to give thanks
She hastened back to the centre
Pausing only to spend the coins
On warm clothing and shoes
Some books
And a few toys
Which she would send
Back to the refugee camp
In her homeland
For those who could not escape
Copyright: David Hopcroft October 2023
Park Bench Tales and other writings 