He was just a child,
Sitting by the lamp-post,
Crying his heart out.
No shoes on his feet,
Begging on the street,
Nowhere to play,
Nowhere to stay.
My heart went out to him.

I am a man of compassion,
I tell myself.
A good citizen,
A man with scruples,
A man of principle,
Who helps people in need,
A man fit to lead.
But I didn’t raise a finger to help.

I could give money to beggars,
I could lend things to my friends,
I would do favours to strangers;
But I could never make a sacrifice.
It is not enough to be nice;
Unless you can give up something special,
Helpfulness isn’t real,
And you’re just another hypocrite.

Blessed are the people,
Who are truly altruistic,
Who would give up something
That means the world to them,
If it would help someone
In genuine need.
Somehow, the good deed
Always finds its way back to them.

The last I heard
Of the orphaned child,
A neighbour adopted him,
Raised him as his own son.
And while this was done,
All I did was watch and say,
There are good people in the world today,
There really are people who are altruistic.