A few days ago we went to a restaurant here in DC, and at a nearby table there was a woman who, apparently, had no arms. And yet, with her foot bared, she ate her salad with the fork held between her big toe and second toe, and she manipulated that fork as adeptly as might you and I.

Beneath the table, at her feet, lay a beautiful little dog, a fox terrier, obviously a service dog.

Because she was of a certain age, I wondered if she had been one of the original Thalidomide babies, children born with vestigial arms because their mothers had taken a substance during pregnancy that causes birth defects.

Whatever the reason, imagine if she had been murdered in the womb by elective abortion. She would not be where I saw her a few days ago, enjoying a meal with an adoring little dog at her feet.

What a senseless tragedy that would have been.

THE ARMLESS WOMAN

The armless woman in the restaurant
Eating salad with her toes,
The fork held flawlessly between the great
And second toe

Beneath the table stands, then lies
A service dog, fox terrier
With sensitive devoted eyes
To wait for her

God has given it the joy
Of service and of charity
So that to be
As dog-like cannot be indignity

A beast but no automaton
What then what more
In charity, humility
Are we made for?

Pavel
December 17, 2012