The Widow's Mite

There's a story in the Bible about the poor widow who gave her last few mites (cents) at the temple.  Jesus, as usual, had a very different perspective of what she was giving.  This is a poem I wrote when thinking about that story. 

The Widow's Mite

I don't have much to give,
Not enough to even live.
Others I see have so much;
Houses, land, clothing & such

You're asking me to give it all,
But two mites just seems so small.
Yet here I come with mites in hand,
I bring it now - then stop and stand.

I look around at those giving more,
I turn around and head for the door.
My mites don't matter, I'll just go,
But as I turn to leave, You said No.

Turn around child and take it back,
They give from their wealth, you give from your lack.
When you give your mites, you give your all.
To me what they give looks very, very small.

So go back child, drop in your mites,
For what you give me is great in my sight.
I will take what is small and make it great,
Now humbly walk front & drop it in the plate.

Just then he looked up and saw the rich people dropping offerings in the collection plate. Then he saw a poor widow put in two pennies. He said, "The plain truth is that this widow has given by far the largest offering today. All these others made offerings that they'll never miss; she gave extravagantly what she couldn't afford—she gave her all!"    Luke 21:1-4