Feed My Little Ones1

How many children starving, did you say?

A million? Five million? It is sad,

Tragic really. But after all, they are

Thousands of miles away, remote as the Black Death

Or the dying stars. Oh, I do sympathise:

But I could never count much beyond ten –

Tragedy multiplied by millions fades

Into a faceless limbo of statistics

And leaves imagination cold on the outside.

Charity, I say, must begin at home.

Let charity begin at home.

Think of one child, your own or the next-door neighbour’s.

Tetter the pretty skin with sores, let the bones show through it

Like ribs of a stranded wreck. This is your child –

This derelict with the animal breath of famine

Whimpering through his frame. He understands nothing,

Nothing he knows but a mother long sucked dry

Of milk and tears, a father drained of hope.

You are that father, you are that mother.

Your child. Imagine. It is so hard to imagine?

Thousands of miles away, yet still they are next-door neighbours

Within the giant stride, the magic ring of compassion.

Let one child plead for all, as the Christ-child spoke for all

Innocents bundled away into a bloodless limbo.

This need not be so. Our target is mankind’s conscience:

Not by the wringing of hands shall our concern be measured

But in shelter, seed and ploughshares, that hope may be reborn.

Put one stranger’s child to the breast of your warm compassion.

Find its father a share in earth, his only birthright.

Sow a few handfuls of seed and give that child its future.

1 Written for Oxfam by the Poet Laureate to commemorate that organisation’s 25th birthday. Spoken by Dame Sybil Thorndike at the Royal Festival Hall.