When God Calls by Cindy O'Connor
When God calls little children to dwell with him above,
We mortals sometimes question.
For no heartache compares with the death of 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 word mankind knows will always be "Goodbye."
So when a little child departs,
We who are left behind must realize God loves children;
Angels are hard to find.
January 26, 1988-January 28, 2000. Gone but never forgotten. I can't believe it's been 11 years.
When God calls little children to dwell with him above,
We mortals sometimes question.
For no heartache compares with the death of 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 word mankind knows will always be "Goodbye."
So when a little child departs,
We who are left behind must realize God loves children;
Angels are hard to find.
January 26, 1988-January 28, 2000. Gone but never forgotten. I can't believe it's been 11 years.
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