To dwell with him above,
We mortals sometime 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 tries 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 by 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 â??Goodbye.â??
So when a little child departs
We who are left behind,
Must realize God loves children,
Angels are hard to find
