Many hopeful mom's and dad's try to have a child of their own some never get the chance, others do and see them grow. And there are those who are expecting that precious baby soon, but then it's gone before it ever leaves the safety of it's mamma's womb.

Jesus has a rocking chair and he holds that precious baby with oh such tender care he takes the place of mom and dad he's the greatest parent a child could have, don't worry about the children there, Jesus has a rocking chair.

There are those who have a boy or girl, a lovely gift of god, but sickness or a tragedy takes them from their parents arms. Momma's wish for days gone by, Daddy's long for that lost child. Children are not lost when you know where they are.

She was 18 and abandoned, expecting her little one, but in her time of confusion she took the life of her son. Since then Jesus forgave her and he took all her shame away, but still she cries missing her baby but she hears the angel's say:

Jesus has a rocking chair and he holds that precious baby with oh such tender care he takes the place of mom and dad he's the greatest parent a child could have, don't worry about the children there, Jesus has a rocking chair. He takes the place of mom and dad he's the greatest parent a child could have, don't worry about the children there, Jesus has a rocking chair.

~On a Child's Death~

All heaven was in mourning,
The day that young man died,
When He closed His eyes, they said,
Ten thousand angels cried.

The angels shed their many tears,
Because He was God's Son,
But there is a special sadness,
When God takes the very young.

At times like that, I question God,
Why let a child die?
I cannot understand it,
And I need to ask Him why?

I, too, have heard the angels cry,
I've heard them cry first hand,
For I, too, gave up a child,
And I've tried hard to understand.

Yes, I received God's comfort,
Though I'm grateful, I want more,
I want reasons; I want meaning,
I am a parent who's heart-sore.

God can give, and God can take,
I am well aware of this,
But, why my baby - why my child?
Why did God put him on His list?

Did I love my child too much?
Was he too good for this old earth?
Had his purpose here been filled?
Was that why he was taken first?

I awake each day with questions,
I fall asleep at night, the same,
So many times I ask God why,
I'm both saddened and ashamed

But then, in reflective moments,
When my prayers are most intense,
One word keeps going through my mind,
Patience - patience - patience.

Maybe now is not the time,
To explain this great heartache,
Even if I knew God's reasons,
What difference would it make?

Can't I just be grateful,
For any time we had?
Accept God's action without question?
Why is that so very bad?

What's my hurry - why my pressure?
Is my faith not strong enough?
God will explain it when He's ready,
Surely I can trust that much.

God understands my broken heart,
He, too, gave up a Son,
He knows the pain of one lost child,
He weeps with me, and we are one.

Just as I talk to God each day,
I talk to my precious child,
I blow him kisses, and I say,
"See you, honey, in a while."

Our Precious Kyle

Our precious, Kyle
Is cradled in God's Care.
With beauty all around him,
He is waiting for us there.
He feels no pain or sorrow,
Just peace and joy and love.
Our baby boy is blessing
All the angels up above.
God has a special reason
We do not understand,
For wanting Kyle with him now
In heaven's promised land.
We'll look to God for comfort,
Assurance, peace and joy,
Until we're reunited with
Our precious, baby boy.

Poem written for me by my friend,
Kelly Martin

Little Angels

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 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 a few,
To make the land of Heaven
more beautiful to view.
Believing this is difficult
still somehow we must try.
The saddest words mankind knows
will always be "goodbye".
So when a little child departs,
we who are left behind
Must realize why God loves children,
Angels are hard to find.

Living Still

A garden is a growing thing.
Each day, each passing hour,
Some bit of newness there unfolds-
A leaf, a bud, a flower.
A garden is a living thing.
And even when the snow
Has blanketed its silent form
It does not cease to grow.
For every tender seedling there,
Each hard, encrusted pod,
Contains a tiny spark of life,
A living bit of God.

Life, also, is a growing thing;
Each day, each passing hour,
Finds something new unfolding there-
New thoughts, new strength, new power.
And when the snows of sorrow come,
As snows of sorrow will,
The seeds of Hope lie dormant then
But go on living still.
And, just as Spring returns to bring
The garden fresh new leaves-
So does the Spring of Life return
To every heart that grieves.

This following poem touched me in a very special way,
I felt like it was written just to me.

A Mother's Love

I didn't have to look into your eyes
to fall in love with you.
I didn't have to hear your cry
to know you loved me too.
I didn't need to hold your hand
to cherish you always.
Within my womb, we shared our hearts.
You touched my soul.
You sweetened my spirit.
You gave me memories I'll always hold dear.
Yes, my heart aches since you departed too soon.
But a mother's love does not end with death.
For you are my child
Forever my love is yours.

Written by: Kathy L Schmucker 5-2-91

Here is a poem I found to be very comforting
to think about.

In a baby castle just beyond my eye
My baby plays with angel toys
money cannot buy.
Who am I to wish not
this world of strife
Now play on my baby
you have eternal Life.

This last poem was given to me by our minister's wife.
This poem is written by Debra Prichard
who lost her son Adam.

For Adam- A Special Blessing

Precious, tiny, perfect feet
meant to skip down Golden streets.
Never meant to plod in dust,
wearied, through this world of rust.

Precious hands, slender, small
never meant to catch a ball,
meant to praise Him eternally,
not to toil and blistered be.

Imperfect in the eyes of men,
Precious in God's plan for him.
Perfect soul, in God's image made,
fulfilled His purpose in less than a day.

We now, who are left below,
whole in body, yet not in soul,
have need to pray that we may be
as perfectly used of God as he.

In a baby castle just beyond my eye,
my baby plays with angel toys that money cannot buy.
Who am I to wish him back into this world of strife?
Now, play on my baby, you have eternal life.
At night when all is silent and sleep forsakes my eyes,
I'll hear his tiny footsteps come running to my side.
I'll breathe a prayer and close my eyes,
and embrace him in my sleep.
Now I have a treasure that I rate above all other.
I have known true glory; I am STILL his mother.

-Author Unknown-

Tiny Footprints

These are my footprints,
so perfect and so small.
These tiny footprints,
never touched the ground at all.
Not one tiny footprint,
for now I have my wings.
These tiny footprints were meant
for other things.
You will hear my tiny footprints,
in the patter of the rain.
Gentle drops like angel's tears,
of joy and not from pain.
You will see my tiny footprints,
in each butterflies' lazy dance.
I'll let you know I'm with you,
if you just give me a chance.
You will see my tiny footprints,
in the rustle of the leaves.
I will whisper names into the wind,
and call each one that grieves.
Most of all, these tiny footprints,
are found on mommy's heart.
'Cause even though I'm gone now,
we'll NEVER truly part.

---Author: Tamara Barker,
in memory of her daughter Hope---

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