Baby Stroller
The baby sits in his baby stroller
surrounded by comfort and love
Every need is met by his mother
who vigilantly hovers above
Down the road the two of them travel
toward prospects appearing so bright
The wheels are rolling on sidewalk or gravel
embracing what’s good and what’s right
Approaching them is a far different scene
an old man all dressed in rags
He too, is pushing his stroller…
it is filled with trash cans and bags
No new life sits in his carriage
no prospects, no shrieks of delight
He pushes a load of heavy regrets
and choices that didn’t go right
Long ago it was he in the stroller
with mom right there at the helm
Possibilities spread out before him
the whole World was part of his realm
The two strollers pass on the sidewalk
like two ships might pass in the night
The old man shuffling off to the left…
and mommy, she goes to the right
New life with all of its promise
of good health, good fortune and cheer
Roll past the sad and broken down man
who smells of alleys and beer
The stroller’s a tool with no mind of its own
just goes where its owner wants
It carries a life full of promise…
or a past of burdening haunts
David Kettler
I wrote baby stroller last week early in the morning. I have been thinking about it for quite a while. Because of working downtown near the bus station, we are over-run with homeless people and many of them are pushing baby strollers. I don’t know where they get them, maybe the Goodwill gives them out, or maybe some of them are stolen from people’s houses? Anyway, the idea of the newness of life colliding with the worst case scenario of life all in the same vehicle inspired me. Also colliding are the feelings inside me about homeless people. One side of me feels sorry for them and the other is totally irritated about the trash they leave around my building, the public restroom they make out of my parking lot, and the idea that I can’t accidentally leave anything outside because by morning time it is gone. However, I have left a mop and a broom outside once and they didn’t touch those! Maybe they represent work too much. My Christian upbringing wants to give them something…and my irritated side wants it to be a one-way ticket to Indio or Brawley. It always fascinates me to see the little pile they leave behind after squatting in my back parking lot. It usually consists of empty bottles in brown paper bags, empty smoke packs and burned out butts, and empty McDonald trash bags. Maybe the empty consumed shells are analogous of their situation and their life? There are a number of trash dumpsters in the alley behind my building, couldn’t they just once pick up their trash and deposit it in one of the dumpsters? How about the sign holders…”will work for food” – “homeless vet” – “hungry and homeless” – “ why lie, I want a beer” Even that one has gotten old! How about, finding a little stray dog, and then making a sign that says,” My dog is a drunk, please help him!” or teach the dog to play dead and then have a sign, “ Need money for my dogs funeral” People would give them a little something just because they made them laugh! I think that is a big part of the reason they are homeless, they didn’t think. They maybe chose rather to empty things that were bad for them into their bodies rather than have creative, constructive ideas come out of their minds into practice that would help clothe and house them. Anyway, I’m no expert, I just keep working and thinking and striving and serving others so I don’t join them.
The baby sits in his baby stroller
surrounded by comfort and love
Every need is met by his mother
who vigilantly hovers above
Down the road the two of them travel
toward prospects appearing so bright
The wheels are rolling on sidewalk or gravel
embracing what’s good and what’s right
Approaching them is a far different scene
an old man all dressed in rags
He too, is pushing his stroller…
it is filled with trash cans and bags
No new life sits in his carriage
no prospects, no shrieks of delight
He pushes a load of heavy regrets
and choices that didn’t go right
Long ago it was he in the stroller
with mom right there at the helm
Possibilities spread out before him
the whole World was part of his realm
The two strollers pass on the sidewalk
like two ships might pass in the night
The old man shuffling off to the left…
and mommy, she goes to the right
New life with all of its promise
of good health, good fortune and cheer
Roll past the sad and broken down man
who smells of alleys and beer
The stroller’s a tool with no mind of its own
just goes where its owner wants
It carries a life full of promise…
or a past of burdening haunts
David Kettler
I wrote baby stroller last week early in the morning. I have been thinking about it for quite a while. Because of working downtown near the bus station, we are over-run with homeless people and many of them are pushing baby strollers. I don’t know where they get them, maybe the Goodwill gives them out, or maybe some of them are stolen from people’s houses? Anyway, the idea of the newness of life colliding with the worst case scenario of life all in the same vehicle inspired me. Also colliding are the feelings inside me about homeless people. One side of me feels sorry for them and the other is totally irritated about the trash they leave around my building, the public restroom they make out of my parking lot, and the idea that I can’t accidentally leave anything outside because by morning time it is gone. However, I have left a mop and a broom outside once and they didn’t touch those! Maybe they represent work too much. My Christian upbringing wants to give them something…and my irritated side wants it to be a one-way ticket to Indio or Brawley. It always fascinates me to see the little pile they leave behind after squatting in my back parking lot. It usually consists of empty bottles in brown paper bags, empty smoke packs and burned out butts, and empty McDonald trash bags. Maybe the empty consumed shells are analogous of their situation and their life? There are a number of trash dumpsters in the alley behind my building, couldn’t they just once pick up their trash and deposit it in one of the dumpsters? How about the sign holders…”will work for food” – “homeless vet” – “hungry and homeless” – “ why lie, I want a beer” Even that one has gotten old! How about, finding a little stray dog, and then making a sign that says,” My dog is a drunk, please help him!” or teach the dog to play dead and then have a sign, “ Need money for my dogs funeral” People would give them a little something just because they made them laugh! I think that is a big part of the reason they are homeless, they didn’t think. They maybe chose rather to empty things that were bad for them into their bodies rather than have creative, constructive ideas come out of their minds into practice that would help clothe and house them. Anyway, I’m no expert, I just keep working and thinking and striving and serving others so I don’t join them.