But Jesus called for the
children, saying, "Let the little children come to Me and do not try to
stop them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”
Luke 18:16
“See
that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that their
angels in heaven continually see the face of My Father who is in heaven.”
Matthew 18:10
Our dearest and precious,
tiny Grace,
Covered by so many heartfelt prayers.
We waited and waited to meet your sweet
face,
As our own cheeks were streaked with tears.
Fragile, yet strong, so welcomed into our
arms,
Like a tender baby lamb, softly bleating;
Eyes opened wide, your face held a thousand
charms,
We loved and adored you for moments too
fleeting.
Our tiny treasure, now laid up in Heaven,
Stronger Arms than ours will care for you
always.
Now we wait, your face never to be
forgotten,
For you arrived and left us, all in one day.
All In One Day
C.A. TAYLOR
Amid all the whirl and dizziness of life's
tragedy, in which creation seems to be but one great cloud, I find myself
suddenly brought to a sweet baby's grave. A gray old church, a gurgling stream,
a far-spreading thorn tree on a green hillock, and a grave on the sunny
southerly side. That is it. Thither I hasten night and day, and in patting the
soft grass I feel as if conveying some sense of love to the little sleeper far
down. Do not reason with me about it; let the wild heart, in its sweet delirium
of love, have all its own way.
Baby was but two years old when, like a dewdrop, he
went up to the warm sun, yet he left my heart as I have seen ground left out of
which a storm had torn a great tree. We talk about the influence of great
thinkers, great speakers, and great writers; but what about the little infant's
power? Oh, child of my heart, no poet has been so poetical, no soldier so
victorious, no benefactor so kind, as thy tiny, unconscious self. I feel thy
soft kiss on my withered lips just now, and would give all I have for one look
of thy dreamy eyes. But I cannot have it.
Yet God is love. Not dark doubt, not staggering
argument, not subtle sophism, but child-death, especially where there is but
one, makes me wonder and makes me cry in pain. Baby! baby! I could begin the
world again without a loaf or a friend if I had but thee; such a beginning,
with all its hardships, would be welcome misery. I do not wonder that the grass
is green and soft that covers that little grave, and that the summer birds sing
their tenderest notes as they sit on the branches of that old hawthorn tree.
My God! Father of mine, in the blue heavens, is not
this the heaviest cross that can crush the weakness of man? Yet that green
grave, not three feet long, is to me a great estate, making me rich, with
wealth untold. I can pray there. There I meet the infant angels; there I see
all the mothers whose spirits are above; and there my heart says strange things
in strange words -- Baby, I am coming, coming soon! Do you know me? Do you see
me? Do you look from sunny places down to this cold land of weariness? Oh,
baby, sweet, sweet baby, I will try for your sake to be a better man; I will be
kind to other little babies, and tell them your name, and sometimes let them
play with your toys; but, oh, baby, baby, my old heart sobs and breaks.
DR.
JOSEPH H. PARKER
Baby’s Grave
"Only a baby's grave--
A foot or two at the most
Of tear-dewed sod;
But a loving God
Knows what the little grave cost.
A foot or two at the most
Of tear-dewed sod;
But a loving God
Knows what the little grave cost.
Only a baby's life, -
Brief as a perfumed kiss,
So fleet it goes;
But our Father knows
We are nearer to Him for this."
We are nearer to Him for this."
Let
us praise God for the brief loan.
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