The lent child

It seems lately as I have posted about that too many little children are becoming angels. In this bloggerland you can, through reading others blogs then stumble across more and more sad stories such as Audrey Caroline's,Ethan Powell's and Noah Stevens. I use to have a book from college about learning to live again after the loss of a child. It had this amazing poem at the end that I have passed on to several people who have lost children. I just felt like sharing it. I think for those of us who still have our little miracles, it serves as a reminder of just how lucky we are and to embrace every moment with our children we are privledged to have. I know I especially struggle with this when I feel like I am going insane. But, how my heart would ache without my little bubie boy and girl. Here is the poem..
I again encourage you to check out Angie's blog at www.audreycaroline.blogspot.com, its an amazing blog that will FOREVER change you..

THE LENT CHILD

I'll lend you for a little time,
A child of mine He said,
For you to love while she lives,
and mourn when she is dead.

It may be six or seven years,
or twenty-two or three.
But will you till I call her back
take care of her for me?

She'll bring her charms to gladden you,
and shall her stay be brief,
You'll have her lovely memories
as solace for your grief.

I cannot promise she will stay,
since all from earth return.
But there are lessons taught down there
I want this child to learn.

I've looked the wide world over
in my search for teachers true,
And from the throngs that crowd lifes lanes,
I have selected you.

Now will you give her all your love,
nor think the labor vain,
Nor hate me when I come to call
to take her back again?


I fancied that I heard them say,
Dear Lord, Thy will be done.
For all the joy thy child shall bring,
the risk of grief we'll run.

We'll shelter her with tenderness,
we'll love her while we may,
and for the happiness we've known,
will ever grateful stay.

But shall the angels call for her
much sooner than we planned,
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes
and try to understand.