Oh Lord, Bless Her Poor Soul !

Lying on the hard cold ground with no shelter overhead was the girl Christine. In the solemn night scene when the moon hung in the velvety sky, she was a poor sight to see.


Dressed in rags, the bony structure of Christine moved along the road with nothing but a few flowers to sell. She hoped to earn a penny or two for herself. Christine had not eaten even a single morsel of food the day before. But today she was filled with heart felt desire to eat something- even if it was a small cold piece of loaf.


She stood in front of the huge shop in the local street as she envied every richly dressed passer-by. She hoped that some wealthy person would come to her and relieve her of the radiant hues she was holding and also of the pain in her soul.


The shimmering hues of the sun dimmed and the whispering darkness arrived. There was no one on the street except Christine. She still stood with those truly beautiful flowers hoping that someone would buy them.


But now as the night time brought coldness making the atmosphere solemn and serene she quietly lay on the ground. She had been eternally relieved of the pain and burden of her soul, never to feel them again. The moon shined softly upon the petals that lay scattered around her making them sparkle as her bright and relieved face.


As she left this world forever with her last smile etching on her face the only thing I could say was, “Oh Lord, Bless her poor soul”.