The little lad
born infirm, sadly & crookedly bent,
Within his short
little life, he, in a wheelchair spent,
Was unable with
other children, to run & joyfully play,
Until that dark
night, when God came & took him away.
Arriving in heaven
God told him,” Be brave & do not weep,”
“I´m worried about
Mama, she thought she had me for keeps,”
God told him to
write her a letter & send it into her dreams,
“Miracles work you
know laddie, strange as that now seems”.
Dearest Mama don´t
weep, I know my life on earth was brief,
I know you cared
& loved me dearly, but now I only feel relief,
Now there are no
cruel tossed barbs & I feel no wearing pain,
Now I smile warm
sunbeams & my only tears are drops of rain.
And look how I can
run with Angels, in sweet & flowered fields,
No bent back, no
pain & no more need for wheelchair wheels,
But Mama, I´ve not
gone far, I´m the breeze upon your cheek,
I´ll be the smile
upon your lips, knowing I am no longer weak.
You shall awake
from your dreams & know that I was here,
A kiss to puppy, a
hug to dad, there´s nothing more to fear,
And although I was
too young to go, at barely even eleven,
Mama, just wanted you
to know, there are no wheelchairs
Here in heaven.
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