A babe arrived with shrouded skin,
The black and blue showed where she'd been,
That tiny worm could take no breath,
Our little girl, so close to death.
The hopelessness overtook us,
Sought Prayers of Faith, "In God We Trust,"
Our helpless babe who could not cry,
Was still the apple of my eye.
Vowed her Life would not end this way,
Swollen and scared; fighting to stay,
When healers said that she would die,
They earned my wrath. We bid goodbye.
"She will not last the trip," they said,
"To yonder place... and other bed!"
But when they called with an update,
She'd lived and it was not too late.
The specialists knew what to do,
Raised her P-H with bicarb too,
Just like i'd said she'd needed when,
We left where they said she would end.
Then we were told her brain was harmed,
At this point i felt no alarm,
"You cannot shake me, though you try,
This is the apple of my eye.
She will survive, be normal too,
My words may not mean much to you,
But God is with her, this i know,
And soon enough, she'll show you so."
They said she'd eat and breathe through tubes,
By then to me, they all were rubes,
Soon she was breathing on her own,
Then - drinking too - her smile shown.
They all were proven wrong once more,
By God and babe whom i adore,
Was two more months 'til she could sigh,
That tiny apple of my eye.
Now she's so big and full of zeal,
And to her core, she's all appeal,
The seed i'd planted by and by,
This wondrous apple of my eye.
