God's Children

How can there be too many children?
That is like saying there are too many flowers.
Mother Teresa of Calcutta

The Innocence Of A Child

Children are a blessing
They all should be laughing
And having lots of fun
Taking time to smell the flowers
And playing in the sun
But sometimes their hearts get broken
And their dreams are shattered, too
Because someone has abused them
By word or by what they do
The innocence of that child
Is gone forevermore
What should have been a happy time
Has appeared ugly at their door
Many of the abusers
Are people that they know
So they really trust them
And feel they can’t say no
Their little hearts are sad
And filled with sorrow, too
They feel they cannot tell
They wonder what to do
Their childhood is a shambles
Their adulthood even more
Unless they tell what’s happened
Happiness will never be at their door
So pray for these little children
And ask God to bless them, too
And give them His protection
In everything that they do.

rachel anair ~ 02/18/98

One day I dug a little hole
And put my hurt inside
I thought that I could just forget
I'd put it there to hide.

But that little hurt began to grow
I covered it every day
I couldn't leave it and go on
It seemed the price I had to pay.

My joy was gone, my heart was sad
Pain was all I knew.
My wounded soul enveloped me
Loving seemed too hard to do.

One day, while standing by my hole
I cried to God above
And said, "If You are really there...
They say, You're a God of Love!"

And just like that... He was right there
And just put His arms around me
He wiped my tears, His hurting child
There was no safer place to be.

Please pray for the 136,000 babies
who will die today through abortion.
This candle burns in their memory.

I told Him all about my hurt
I opened up my heart
He listened to each and every word
To every sordid part.

I dug down deep and got my hurt
I brushed the dirt away
And placed it in the Master's hand
And healing came that day.

He took the blackness of my soul
And set my spirit FREE!
Something beautiful began to grow
Where the hurt used to be.

And when I look at what has grown
Out of my tears and pain
I remember every day to give my hurts to Him

And never bury them again.

Carol Parrott

A rainbow in the sky
Spread like crayons on the floor
The awe in the eyes of the child
Has not been seen before
As the child gazes silently
Up into the blue sky
There is a quick flutter
As a butterfly passes by
Again colors unfold
In the eyes of the child
Quickly the colors are gone
They stay only a short while
A four-leaf clover is visible
As the child glances down
And looking real close
She sees many on the ground
And looking up again
The child sees a rose
As the child begins to smell it
The sweet smell tickles her nose
Again there’s a burst of color
The yellows, whites and reds
They remind the child of pictures
In the books that she has read
It is now getting late
And the child must go
But she will always remember
God’s beautiful, colorful show
These are the memories
Of being a child
And it’s good to reminisce
At least once in awhile.