Adoptive Mommy
“Where’s my Mommy?” Whimpered a fearful voice,
As the little blind girl cried,
She couldn’t understand why her mommy was gone
No matter how hard she tried.
It was only her third Christmas,
And Mommy was the only gift she sought.
Searching the worn-torn streets, she said,
“Oh, Mommy!” As a tender arm she caught.
A soldier girl from a foreign land
Felt a tug on her uniform sleeve,
And said as she reached down with heart and hand,
“I’ll be your Mommy this Christmas Eve.”
—James E. Tate
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