Thanksgiving Table

Bone cold weary and next meal worry walk the lines. 
Soup lines and welfare lines, the don’t-feed-me-a-line lines;

just, can you lend me a bed, a meal, your time, maybe spare a dime?

These are the blessed eight subsisters, the urban trawlers and alley dwellers.

Shattered minds falling through concrete cracks in mean-street fields yielding nothing but scorn and ridicule while dignity slip slides away into anonymity.

Ready the plow-shares you fortunate ones.  Sew His blessings upon those fields. 

Reap your just rewards bountiful upon a thanksgiving table.

Rise, Lazarus, and recline with us.  Let forgiveness reign and water turn into wine.

                                                                                                                 Anonymous

 We are the fortunate ones.  All of us at Bickimer Homes are thankful for our customers, subcontractors and suppliers.  Please remember those less fortunate this holiday season.  Folks looking for their next meal, a friend, a place to lay their head.