It was a winter of 1929,
I drag my feet with heartless steps,
Just to put some smiles across at a cost of a small pinch on my wallet,
An ice cream treat at moshes weighs in pure gold,
If you slog for few dimes,
And lucky enough to have a day Job,
I order the cheapest cream , screaming ruthlessly its 'my favourite. flavour',
I digg deep in my waistcoat pockets, pulled out a shiney nickel, a weeks pay,
Picked up the icecream bucket and move out of the shop,
My eyes stop at a sight ,A small little girl as old as my daughter,
With a her sunken deep blue eyes,frail and pale skin,with a squeky voice she broke, 'food for hungry Mr.,haven't had no bread since Monday!'
The november frost hit me hard, shiver went through my spine,
I digged deep in my pocket, to search for a dime,
I had shelled the last penny for the delightyful Sunday cream,
I just lowered the bucket stroked her frosty blonde hair,
'Thank you Mr. I am Rochelle!', that weekend my family just had soup and bread for supper!,
With a content of saving a life putting a smile !
