'Tis the human touch in this world that counts,
   The touch of your hand and mine,
Which means far more to the fainting heart
   Than shelter and bread and wine;
For shelter is gone when the night is o'er,
   And bread lasts only a day,
But the touch of the hand and the sound of the voice
   Sing on in the soul always.
                                                     "The Human Touch"
                                                 ~  poem by S.M. Free