Little Angels
When God calls little children
To dwell with Him above
We mortals often question
The wisdom of His love
For us 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 rose bud
Before it can grow old
God knows how much we need them
And 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
Little Angels are hard to find
~Author Unknown
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