The Baker, the Customer and the Christian

Callous was the hand that fed,
Gracious was that man’s bread
Who gave the man his open feast.


However, like the duck fed in his wilderness
He could not kneed nor roll,
Nor press nor make the slits
Within the loaf for the steam to vent.


There was something meager in his existence.
Something offensive to the man who fed him.
It was like a pet, of sorts,
Which was given the crumbs which fell to the dog’s feet.


There came one day a customer, however,
Who saw this fellow.
This fellow eating his meager loaf,
The strange dance of the baker and the homeless man.
The customer asked the baker, “Why don’t you give this man a job?”
The baker had thought of it.
But, the homeless man had no teeth.
Truthfully, he had no way of doing any job.
He was like a dog in a cage
Being electrocuted every time it tried to come out.
Cramped, it was, very cramped.
But, when it poked that little nose through the crevice
It would get shocked.


What to do with such a one as this?
The baker fed him.
The customer said give him a job.
Which was the right man?
Which was the more just man?
The baker who took pity, but bound the homeless man in his chains?
Or the customer who tried to liberate him,
Knowing not it would only lead to another humiliation?


There came a third man, however…
This one was different.
He saw the homeless man,
And he took pity on him.
He brought the homeless man into his house.
Nursed him like a child.
Slowly, over several years,
This last man became a father of sort
To the homeless man.
This last man fed
And nourished the homeless man,
And soon the homeless man had a home.
He neither could work.
He neither could do anything.
He never would get a job.
But, the homeless man was suffering less.
And being that this last man was not so rich,
But had enough to support himself,
All of his effort was placed into caring for this broken man.
The homeless man died at a ripe old age.
And for his entire life,
He kept good company with the last man.
He was conversational,
Sympathetic,
Warm, friendly, for he owed this man so much
Yet nothing was to be given.
The man was insured a future
Of not the most loathsome suffering.


Which of these men do we fall into?
It is hard to know.
It is always hard to know.
The Baker is the Democrat.
The Customer the Republican.
The last man is the Christian.


That’s about the only way I can distinguish it.