"Mr. Shrine"

She stood against the window pane, and watched the children play,

How they ran and chased each other, as they do most every day.

Her heart would yearn to be with them, but her legs would not permit,

For they were warped and twisted, and always pained a bit.

But yet her heart was generous, for she quietly cheered them on,

And she would stand and watch them play until the last was gone.

But birth defects were her life's woes, no attempt to correct them was made.

Her parents were out of money, and the doctor must be paid.

But daily she trudged on her crutches, rarely did she get out,

But begged to go to the Christmas Parade, to see if Santa was about.

Her family was willing to take her, to give her a little treat.

It was a thrill for a little girl, when she stood there on the street.

Then here they came, the big brass band, the clowns and animals too.

The motorcycles and funny cars, it thrilled her through and through.

Her hands were gripping her crutches, but the cheer was in her face.

You could tell the cold was unnoticed, as she stood there in her place.

Then here they came with Fez's bright, so proud as they passed by,

As they tossed the candy and bubble gum, they caught the watchers eye.

Then one red Fez got out of line, and walked over to the side

To greet the girl with crutches, his sympathy he could not hide.

He stooped to ask the little girl's name, "It's Christy, ‘Mr. Shrine'."

She knew the Fez and who they were, an angel was his find.

He never forgot the meeting that day, the smile that Christy showed.

How she stood there on those crutches, and how her face had glowed.

Days had passed, but he never forgot, those legs didn't match that smile.

He had to help her if he could, if it took him a little while.

And then one day the answer came, the number and name of the street

Where again he would see Miss Christy, a second time they would meet.

Now Christy stood by the window sill, as he came up the slight incline.

She yelled for mother to come and see, it was here "Mr. Shrine".

He told the family about the work in the hospitals far and near,

And how he'd gotten and interview, and he wanted the family to hear.

The plans were made for Christy, to the hospital she would go.

There might be several trips to make before they would really know.

Once in the van, she asked "Mr. Shrine", you could see him hide a grin.

"Do we have to buy a paper before they let me in?"

"No, my dear, that's over now. Next year we will sell again.

Right now, let's let them fix your legs, they've already said come in."

There were many trips before the end, a lot of pain for Christy too,

But now she stands tall without a crutch, her legs as good as new.

As she left the final time, and told the doctors good-bye,

She stood there with that same sweet smile, as he wiped his misty eye.

"You're just so good", she told him, "and doctor I love you much.

You're really like an angel, I feel it with every touch."

Then she kissed him on the cheek, and walked out to the van.

"You won't have to help me ‘Mr. Shrine', this time I know I can."

This will be her final ride with her buddy "Mr. Shrine".

And she was bright and glowing, just like the warm sunshine.

For on this final ride she took, she was twelve years old by now,

And knew her cure was heaven sent, for soon she would know how.

She thanked "Mr. Shrine" so sweetly, and asked if the bill was paid.

"Oh, no, my dear, there is no bill, for one was never made.

The papers we sold has paid it all, from the hearts of all mankind,

And the money is kept ‘till we need it, by the Treasurer of the Shrine.

It's not the Shrine that pays the bills, it's everyone that gives,

Your family and friends and neighborhood, and every good heart that lives."

The trip too soon had ended, and Christy began to cry.

She knew "Mr. Shrine" would soon be gone, she didn't want to say good-bye,

But he told her now that she was cured, she could help if she wanted to try.

Tell everyone to buy a paper, and he waved to her good-bye.

Some years had passed, and she was grown, but thanked God everyday

For "Mr Shrine" and the Paper Sale, and for making her well this way.

She had started to church one Sunday morn, she saw Shriners everywhere.

They were out selling papers, with that same tender, loving care.

She readied her money, a paper to buy, she drove her car in line,

And as it came her time to pay, there stood her "Mr. Shrine".

You could see that smile upon his face, and the tear in Christy's eye,

For he had made life whole again, from a parade when he passed by.

Oh, "Mr. Shrine, I love you so," as she kissed his aged face.

No matter how old she grew to be, in her heart he had a place.

Then there in church one thought she had, she knew God wouldn't mind.

"Dear God, for now and always, please bless my ‘Mr. Shrine'."