My Life In Words
A Dying Child, A Greiving Mother
One of my friends had a baby girl, her name was grace, she was an angel from day one,
She found out she had leukemia at age 4, it went into remission, until age 8, then
they found a tumor, and eventually she died, she was very sweet, and had pretty red
hair and blue eyes. She is now living in God's arms, and the mother is now a nurse,
working with cancer children.
I see your tiny body laying
so helpless in that bed,
You look like alittle angel
with your curly hair so red.
Are you dreaming all those
days past when we would play,
Chase, and red-rover, the
card games lasted all day.
I never told you how I would
let you win,
I just wanted you to be
my friend.
Now your sick and fragile
to touch,
Oh how I miss your smile
so much.
I watched over you since
you were a baby,
My dreams for you were to
grow into a lady.
But God has other plans
for you,
And there's nothing else
the doctor's can do.
I hold your tiny hand
and silently plea,
Oh God don't take this
baby away from me.
I know you were given
to me for a reason,
But I longed for more
than just a season.
Rest your weary head
on God's shoulder,
Does she remember every-
thing I told her?
Hold on tight to the
angel's hand,
As she walks you to
that promised land.
She found out she had leukemia at age 4, it went into remission, until age 8, then
they found a tumor, and eventually she died, she was very sweet, and had pretty red
hair and blue eyes. She is now living in God's arms, and the mother is now a nurse,
working with cancer children.
I see your tiny body laying
so helpless in that bed,
You look like alittle angel
with your curly hair so red.
Are you dreaming all those
days past when we would play,
Chase, and red-rover, the
card games lasted all day.
I never told you how I would
let you win,
I just wanted you to be
my friend.
Now your sick and fragile
to touch,
Oh how I miss your smile
so much.
I watched over you since
you were a baby,
My dreams for you were to
grow into a lady.
But God has other plans
for you,
And there's nothing else
the doctor's can do.
I hold your tiny hand
and silently plea,
Oh God don't take this
baby away from me.
I know you were given
to me for a reason,
But I longed for more
than just a season.
Rest your weary head
on God's shoulder,
Does she remember every-
thing I told her?
Hold on tight to the
angel's hand,
As she walks you to
that promised land.
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A Dying Child, A Greiving Mother
A Dying Child, A Greiving Mother
