Tribute to children who lit up the world briefly and then were gone:

In a beautiful padded and decorated whiskey box
my little babies lie
safe from all pain and hurt
safe from my nursing procedures
now a little footprint on a card and perhaps a lock of their hair is
enough to jog my memory
of their wee fighting spirits.

The precious girl whose grandma burned her under hot water
she suffered so before she died
I appreciated the privilige that was mine
to enter into her world and show her love and kindness
she always seemed to know I was just trying to help
even when I had to add to her pain.
She is there in a picture of her with a toothless grin.

In the red rose lidded box is the birth card of the baby
born with his spinal cord lying twisted on his back,
and the sweet little one with his intestines outside of his body
and oh my, now I read a eulogy of one of my special ones
who lived 35 hours with only me by her side.
some with footprints only as big as my thumbnail
some old enough to call out for their mom
some I knew for just awhile
Some I cared for so long
they glued their hearts to mine.

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