My day-old child lay in my arms.
With my lips against her ear
I whispered strongly, "How I wish --
I wish that you could hear;
"I've a hundred wonderful things to say
(A tiny cough and a nod),
Hurry, hurry, hurry and grow
So I can tell you about God."
My day-old baby's mouth was still
And my words only tickled her ear.
But a kind of light passed through her eyes,
And I saw this thought appear:
"How I wish I had a voice and words;
I've a hundred things to say.
Before I forget I'd tell you of God --
I left Him yesterday."
Carol Lynn Pearson