Who was the gentle stranger
In the dark-grey hospital ward?
Who took your hand so tenderly
Whispering hope to you, that morn.
Who was the kind old lady?
Beside you in the bus?
She talked and offered sound advice
Returning love and trust.
Who was the kind and helpful priest?
In the confessional that day,
Who counselled you and eased your pain,
He filled your mind with prayer.
Who owned the hand, that rescued
Three children from a fire?
He risked his life to save them
Then left without Goodbye.
Who gave her last brown penny,
To the hungry on the street?
Then walked three miles that evening,
On two tired worn feet.
Who was the lone Nun on her knees,
Praying there from morn till night?
For some unknown sinner?
In the throes of death and fright.
Who else but saintly wardens
In the guise of human form,
So when a stranger helps you.
It could be our Angel Guardian.