Hi I'm Tim
A child of mine," he said.
"For you to love the while She lives,
And to morn, when She is dead.
It may be six or seven years, or 22 or 3,
But will you until I call her back,
Take care of her for me?
He'll bring her charms to gladden you,
And should her day 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 this wild world over
In my search for teachers true
And from the throngs that crowd life's 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 fancy that I heard say,
"Dear Lord, thy will be done.
For all the joy thy child shall bring,
The risk of grief we'll run,
We will shelter her with tenderness
We will love her while we may,
And for the happiness we have known,
Forever grateful stay.
But should the angels call for her,
Much sooner than we have planned,
We will brave the bitter grief
That comes and try to understand."