Where Home Is by M. N. S.

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Dec 17, 1914

Where Home Is

By M. N. S.

I FOUND her on the corner, A maid of three short years; Her head a mass of tangled curls, Her blue eyes filled with tears. “Where do you live, my little maid?” I fear you’ve wandered far—” She looked at me and, sobbing, said, “I live with my mamma.”

I took her in my arms and tried To soothe her childish woe. “But where does mamma live?” I asked. “Perhaps the street you know?” She gazed at me, no sorrow now The childish face did mar,— “Why, don’t you know?” she wondering said; “She lives with my papa.”

“Oh, little maid! Oh, little maid!” I cried in my despair, “Your mamma lives with your papa, And they both live—pray, where?”

She tossed the mass of tangled curls And laughed aloud with glee: “My mamma lives with my papa, And they both live with me.”

— M. N. S., in Little Folks’ Magazine.