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~FOOTPRINTS
MINISTRY, INC.~
(BRINGING
HOPE TO BEREAVED FAMILIES)
Skip
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~DEATH
OF A CHILD~
By:
B. N. Dement
July 17, 1893
Composed and
written to Mrs. Elizabeth Anderson Garner
In memory
of her son Henry Garner
Born 9/15/1882
and Died 1/1/1888
This is shared
by James (Jim) Anderson Garner Jr.,
her grandson
106 years later.
A child has
a soul that is sublime,
Forever to
live through worlds decline.
Forever to
grow in knowledge pure,
Forever to
dwell in a place secure.
It's life on
earth may be but brief,
For death
may bring it early relief,
From what
disturbs all human kind,
Or tends to
ruin the immortal mind.
It knows but
few while on this earth,
For in its
life few have their birth,
But where
it goes is many knows,
For there
the greatest knowledge flows.
God views
the scenes of earthly life,
And free the
little ones from strife,
In arms of
love, through Jordan's swell,
He takes them
home where angels dwell.
Their little
voices we hear no more,
For they are
quiet on the earthly shore,
But on the
strand where now they stay,
They join
the sweetest Heavenly lay.
They kneel
no more by their bed,
In which they
slept when their prayers were said;
But in the
courts of God above,
They kneel
beside the throne of love.
Their sparkling
eye and glowing cheek,
In others
here we vainly seek.
There are
sweet ones, but none so sweet
As the little
ones we hope to meet.
They filled
our souls with joy below,
The good they
did no one doth know;
The joy they
gave while here they dwelt,
Death turns
to grief that long is felt.
A tender child
to a mother dear,
Is the sweetest
gift God gives one here;
So when from
earth it early goes,
With greatest
sorrow her heart o'erflows.
All things
it had, the dolls the toys,
The playthings
of small girls and boys,
These all
are kept with tenderest care,
They point
to days so Heavenly fair.
Five summers
passed o'er Henrys head,
And then they
said "Little Henry's Dead."
It grieves
the father, mother, "Auntie", all,
To know so
soon of eternity's call.
Quite soon
indeed they gave him up,
And hard to
drink was the bitter cup,
Made harder
still by the care they gave,
His body longer
from the grave to save.
His form was
frail, but his mind was bright,
And he always
said his prayers at night,
And his latest
words ere he went to rest,
Were a prayer
for those he loved the best.
He suffered
much while living here,
He suffers
none in his present sphere.
It is solace
to those who sorrow,
To think of
a brighter home tomorrow.
As we think
of the words of a Savior mild,
Truly we say,
"It is well with the child."
And since
it is true, he can not return,
To him
we may go, from the Bible we learn.
The following
was written on the
bottom of
the poem by the poet:
Written &
published by request on the occasion of the death of
Henry Garner,
born September 1, 1882, Died January 10, 1888
