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"Little Angels"
When God calls his little children
to dwell with him above,
We mortals sometimes question
the wisdom of his love.
For no heartache compares to the
death of a small child,
Who does so much to make your world
seem wonderful and mild.
Perhaps, God tires of callin 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 but a few
to make the land of heaven
more beautiful to view.
Believing this is difficult,
still somehow we must try.
The saddest work mankind knows
will always be "Goodbye."
So when a little child departs,
we who are left behind,
must realize God love his children.
Angel are so hard to find.
~ Author Unknown ~
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