A nurse in Boulder snaps her suitcase closed.
An Ohio surgeon drives to meet his plane.
A well-digger packs her boots in Glasgow.
Optical tools are stowed for the flight from Sydney.
A dentist tucks her passport in its sleeve.

           Faces of the kin they dearly love
           read of blended pride and sorrow.

But they must go where mercy calls.

Their planes touch down across the globe -
in Kenya, India, Bolivia, Sudan.
Their clinics housed in shacks or tents.
Their board, assembled huts or barracks.
At day's first light their healing gifts begin.

           Villagers faces glow with grateful love
           as hope foretells a new tomorrow

for loving help has come where it was called.

The vaccine line ends at the nurse's station.
New glasses bring a child the gift of sight.
The dentist’s art relieves a father’s aching molar.
The surgeon sets a fractured radius.
Shouted joy acclaims a new well's teeming flow.

            Let us praise that gentle love -
            given from Delhi to Kilimanjaro -

by those who came when they were called -
by those who loved when mercy left no choice.