When God calls little children
to dwell with Him above,
We mortals sometimes 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 tries of calling the aged of 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.
Beautiful!
ReplyDeleteThanks Dana, I thought so too. I was working on Laken's scrapbook last night and had forgot about it. It was a poem that the funeral home had made with her newspaper clipping.
ReplyDeleteThis is beautiful, thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteYou're wecome <3
ReplyDelete