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By: Traci Pape
You are to me...
the child whom moved inside my womb
who was born unto me
and lived if only for moments
but will live in my mind & heart for an eternity.
You are to me...
the child they will not mention
the child they pretend did not exist.
Please remember my child as if she lived a lifetime
because she lives inside my heart
-forever-
until I draw my last breath.
I will always remember her.
You are to me...
butterflies in the Spring....
a rainbow after the rain...
stars on a warm summer night...
as the sun shining to wake me through my window...
all the earthly beauty my eyes can see
&
the warmth of true love.
You are to me...
the angel whom taught me to be a better person
showed me how to have compassion for others in need
showed me how to be a stronger person to face my fears
and most of all...
touched my heart with your unselfish love.
You are to me......
My Angel
With all my love,
Mommy
Where do small children soar on winged rocking horses,
and play hopscotch from cloud to cloud?
Where do sweet babies sleep in great great grandfathers' arms,
and never once make a tearful sound?
Where do adventurous toddlers explore without ever a fall,
without ever a forbidding "no no",
Where nothing can hurt and nothing can break,
and nothing's too high or "just for show".
Where picture-filled storybooks stand row upon row,
with no shelves to straighten or dust,
And thousands of aunties and uncles and grandmas read endlessly,
never impatient or rushed.
Where there's never new teeth, nor ones to be pulled,
no sick tummies, scraped elbows or knees,
No big scary dogs to growl or to bite,
and no stings from buzzing bumble bees.
No nap-time, no spankings, and no lima beans,
no "boo boos", no "uh oh's", no tears,
Just tiny faces wreathed in smiles, high-pitched squeals and happy giggles.
and unbound excitement as their favorite time nears.
Storyhour's at hand, and as the Storyteller stands,
amidst all of their laughter and joy,
Little feet scamper to feel His touch
as He embraces each young girl and boy.
After kissing each tiny saint, He sits down among them,
placing a child upon each knee,
And, softly, the Storyteller begins His story with the precious words
"Let the little children come unto me."
by Rebecca Anne Obregon
by: Kaye Des'Ormeaux
My mom is a survivor
or so I've heard it said
but I can hear her crying at night
when all others are in bed.
I watch her lay awake at night
and go to hold her hand
she doesn't know I'm with her
to help her onderstand.
But like the sands on the beach
that never wash away...
I watch over my surviving mom
who thinks of me each day.
She wears a smile for others...
a smile of disguise!
But through heavens door I see
tears flowing from her eyes.
My mom tries to cop with death
to keep my memory alive
but anyone who knows her knows
it is her way to survive.
As I watch over my surviving mom
through heavens open door...
I try to tell her that angels
protect me forevermore.
I know that doesn't help her...
or ease the burden she bears
so if you get a chance,go visit her...
and show her that you care.
For no matter what she says...
no matter what she feels...
My surviving mom has a broken heart
that time wont ever heal
"Come take a walk with me," she said;
as she held out her tiny hand.
"Let me show you where I've gone;
it's such a beautiful, peaceful land."
And as we walked, she smiled
and talked of happiness so true.
She said "If only you could see this place,
then you could never be down or blue."
"I know you miss me as I miss you
and I know the pain runs deep.
If only I could show you this wonderful place
where I sleep."
Tell everyone down there I love them
and my memory forever will live on,
and please tell them I'm up here waiting
for when the good Lord calls them Home.
by Elizabeth Watkins
When God calls little children
to dwell with Him above,
We mortals sometime question
the wisdom of His love.
For no heartache compares
with the death of one small child
Who does so much to make our world,
seem wonderful and mild
Perhaps God tires of calling
the aged to his fold,
So He picks a rosebud,
before it can grow old.
God knows how much we need them,
and so He takes but few
To make the land of Heaven
more beautiful to view.
Believing this is difficult
still somehow we must try,
The saddest word mankind knows
will always be "Goodbye."
So when a little child departs,
we who are left behind
Must realize God loves children,
Angels are hard to find.
Author Unknown
as crying when you are hurt,
sleeping when you are tired,
eating when you are hungry
or sneezing when your nose itches.
It's nature's way of healing a broken heart.
A cut finger is numb before it bleeds.
It bleeds before it hurts.
It hurts until it begins to heal.
It forms a scab and itches until finally,
the scab is gone and a small scar is left
where once there was a wound.
Grief is the deepest wound you will ever have.
Like a cut finger,
it goes through stages and leaves a scar.
When you try to help someone heal from their pain,
chances are you are probably healing yourself.
Listen to the words
within your own heart.
� Patti Filion, The Compassionate Friends
She chattered all the way,
But left me none the wiser
For all she had to say.
I walked a mile with Sorrow,
And ne�er a word said she;
But oh, the things
I learned from her
When Sorrow walked with me!
�Robert Browning
I�m just a little fella
Who didn�t quite make it there;
I went straight to be with Jesus
But I�m waiting for you here.
Don�t you fret about me Mommy,
I�m of all God�s lambs most blest;
I�d have loved to stay there with you,
But the Shepherd knows what�s best.
Many dwelling here where I live,
Waited for years to enter in;
Struggled through a world of sorrow
And their lives are marred with sin.
So sweet Mommy don�t you sorrow
Wipe those tears and chase the gloom,
I went straight to jesus� bosom
From my lovely mother�s womb.
Thank you for the life you gave me,
It was brief, but don�t complain;
I have all heaven�s glory
Suffered none of earthling�s pain.
Thank you for the name you gave me.
I�d have loved to brought it fame;
But if I�d lingered in earth�s shadows
Might instead have bro�t it shame.
Daddy gave me something for you,
It�s our secret, Mommy dear.
Pressed it tight against my forehead,
Whispered in my tiny ear.
I�ll be waiting for you, Mommy ---
You and Daddy, Bud and Sis,
I�ll be with you the forever ---
Then I�ll give you Daddy�s kiss.
In Heaven
I see the countless christmas trees
around the world below,
with tiny lights like Heavens stars,
reflecting on the snow.
The sight is so spectacular, please wipe
away that tear,
for I am spending Christmas
with Jesus Christ this year.
I hear the many Christmas songs,
that people hold so dear
but the sounds of music can't compare
with the Christmas Choir up Here.
I have no words to tell you,
the joy Their voices bring
for it is beyond description;
to hear the Angels sing.
I know how much you miss me
I see the pain inside your heart,
but I am not so far away,
we really aren't apart.
So be happy for me dear ones,
you know I hold you dear
and be glad I am spending Christmas
with Jesus christ this year.
I send you each a special gift
from my heavenly home above
I send you each a memory
of my undying love.
After all "Love" is the gift
more precious than gold,
It always was most important,
in story's Jesus told.
Please love and keep each other,
as my father said to do,
for I can't count the blessings
He has for each of you.
So have a Merry Christmas
and wipe away that tear
Remember I am spending Christmas,
With Jesus Christ this year.
