Tristen Ryan Cirinelli Sanders

When God calls little children
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 tires of calling
the ages 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 much try
The saddest work 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.