Misplaced Compassion

This is a poem written by my dad. We were perusing the World Vision’s gift catalogue, the animal section. I started reading some of the packages, like the one where they give an animal gift once a month for a year. He saw the humor in some of the animals that they gave that I did not until he pointed them out. I’m still laughing at the two ox and a plow joke he made. This is just something begging to be shared. So share it I shall. Please enjoy and tell me what you think of it so I can pass it on to him.

Misplaced Compassion

Some very nice young Christian people
Came into our city last year.
They shared with us all about Jesus;
How we needed him they made clear.

They said that they also could aid us
To start a on a great new career.
To help us afford an apartment,
They’d send a gift twelve times a year.

At first we were very excited
That God would so choose us to bless.
But now, though we hate to admit it,
It’s turned out a terrible mess.

For tho’ we expected equipment
To earn extra money by sewing,
Instead we have been quite astonished
To see how the whole thing’s been going.

The first month they mailed an alpaca.
We sheared him and sold all the wool.
We stabled him back in the corner;
Our room seemed a little too full.

The next month a goat and ten chickens
Arrived via FedEx one day.
And while we were thankful for milk and for eggs
There was no place to put them away.

The chickens took roost in the cabinet
Where once we had folded our clothes.
The goat ate our warm winter blanket.
The next night we darn nearly froze!

Five ducks came by airmail the next month,
Along with a nice little note.
My wife had to stop plucking chickens
‘Til we crammed the ducks next to the goat.

Weeks later a special deliv’ry,
(While we were out buying Goat Chow)
Arrived and it truly surprised us
To come home to three lambs and a sow!

We crammed them in with the alpaca,
Who looked like he needed a friend,
Then we knelt and prayed earnestly, “Please Lord,
O make these deliveries end!”

Our tiny apartment was crowded.
‘Twas packed to the rafters with stock.
How little we knew that this past month
Would bring a most horrible shock.

A semi parked outside our building;
And now won’t someone tell me how,
In our tiny apartment-turned-stable
We can bed down 2 ox (and a plow)!

So please, nice American Christians,
Tho’ we’re not ungrateful or mean,
Won’t you take it all back, send a shovel!
(And maybe a sewing machine.)


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