Jesus sat in the shade that a stunted tree made,
With His disciples there close at hand.
They were watching the show of what some came to know
As the temple treasury grandstand.
People marched forth in a line stretching north
Past the gate with the treasury box
There anyone might be, although most you could see
Were men with long beards and sidelocks.
Some in that line were dressed very fine
In clothes impressive and rich.
Others less nice, but very precise,
A bit plain, but proper, each stich.
Looking solemn and stern each coming in turn
With their temple offering in show.
Some made a display, in an obvious way,
So, their giving everyone would know.
Others less wealthy, gave a little more stealthy,
So their giving could not be discerned.
They gave just enough of the required stuff,
That God's blessing they might now have earned.
But there in the crowd, midst the wealthy and proud
Was a widow, humble and poor.
She was waring her best, but still none the less,
Worn were the clothes which she wore.
At the treasury stand, she reached out her hand
With two coins known as a mite.
They were copper and small, not worth much at all
Which she dropped in the box out of sight.
What had she thought with the gift which she brought?
Did she think it an offering of worth?
Or had she realized, she'd be likely despised,
An object of laughter and mirth.
As She shuffled away from the treasury that day,
Jesus asked, "Did you see what she did?"
The disciples, no doubt, were all looking about,
Where someone of importance was hid.
Jesus smiled and said, with a tilt of His head,
"I speak of that widow you see.
To me far more, than those coming before,
What she did was impressive to Me.
For they all had sought, with the gifts which they brought
To impress both man and God
But though seeming nice, there was small sacrifice,
So their gifts left me quite under awed.
But the gift which she gave was all she could save.
It was huge even though very small.
For the faith it displayed showed one not afraid,
To trust God with her all and all."
We may not see ourself, our gifts or our wealth,
As something of which God could use.
In the sight of others, that is all but our mothers,
We might be someone no one would choose.
But when we realize that in the Lord's eyes,
We're a treasure beautiful to behold.
What we have might seem slight, like the widow small mite.
But our faith is more precious than gold.
As the widow walked away, did she wonder that day,
Just how her life would now fare?
While no hope was shown, what she could not have known,
Was she now walked towards God's loving care.