Sympathy

I lay in sorrow, deep distressed;

My grief a proud man heard;

His looks were cold, he gave me gold

But not a kindly word.

My sorrow passed, I paid him back

The gold he gave to me;

Then stood erect and spoke my thanks,

And blessed his charity.

I lay in want, in grief and pain;

A poor man passed my way;

He bound my head, he gave me bread,

He watched me night and day.

How shall I pay him back again,

For all he did to me?

Oh, gold is great, but greater far

Is humanly sympathy!

-- Charles McKay.

Read the above poem. You have to rewrite the above poem as a story.

Create a graphic organizer (Web) and your prewriting work.