When God calls little children,

To dwell with Him above.

We mortals sometimes question,

The wisdom of His love.

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 few.

To make the land of Heaven,

More beautiful to view.

Believing this is difficult,

Still somehow we must.

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.

God will be waiting, to help you bear,

The pain and the sorrow of your suffering care.

For no pain or suffering is ever to much,

To yield itself, to God's merciful touch.

He will care for and love your little angel,

The little child, that you loved so very much.

Your child is in God's care now,

Your little child is in God's touch.

~Author Unknown"