Her little body lay there day after day.
People came to visit her but not one word did she say.
Tubes ran through her pink little nose
And pinned upon her pillow was a tiny velvet rose.
Long blonde curls fell from her pillow starched, clean and neat
Cascading onto the white crisp county hospital sheets.
Her pale blue eyes opened revealing lashes thick and long.
If you listened very carefully you could hear her hum a song.
No one knew and she would never tell
The real reason her little body was broken, weak and frail.
You see she loved her parents much more than she loved life.
To know she would hurt her parents would cut her like a knife.
But God was watching that dark Saturday night.
He saw her mother and father, heard the sounds of fright.
He saw the bottles of beer and saw the hand throwing the fatal blow
Angels knelt beside the little body their wings all aglow.
One stood on the head of her bed
One stood at the foot, with eyes aglow and wings outspread.
The little girl smiled and the humming slowly was withdrawn
Angels quickly surrounded and in an instant she was gone.
People do not know and few ever tell.
The stories about the children and the nights of torturing hell.
Through a child's eyes this world is not their final happy home.
One day I pray you see them surrounding God's royal throne.
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Standing with The Son!
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