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If my name was Mary
(just sixteen with a child)
forced to flee my country
(failing state turning wild)
would you find a place for me?

If the town I came from
once had been occupied
by your nation’s soldiers
at whose hands my dad died,
would you find a place for me?

If your nation’s air force
dropped their bombs on my street
on the wrong presumption
that was where rebels meet,
would you find a place for me?

If I’d  learned your country
saw and heard of our plight
but remained persuaded
we were wrong, you were right,
would you find a place for me?

If the boat I paid for
was unfit to set sail
and if seeking refuge
was now certain to fail,
would you find a place for me?

If my name was Mary
(just sixteen with a child);
if his name was Jesus…

Words: John L. Bell, copyright (c) 2015 WGRG, c/o Iona Community, Glasgow, Scotland. www.wildgoose.scot