My friend's granddaughter is going to give birth to a child whose brain is not developing. The child will most likely be born dead. We are praying for God's miracle. Are there any beautiful, appropriate poems out there that can be cross stitched or done in calligraphy? I don't know what else to do. I know the TF Community will rise to the occasion for me. Thanks!
By Linda from Ashdown
I don't know any; but commend you for your thoughtfulness. I suggest you call your own local hospital and ask to speak to a social worker, and explain what you are looking for. He/She may be able to help you, or connect you with families who have gone through something like this and wish to share what helped them. I think you are very wise to want to commemorate the birth/demise of the baby, and not just try to pretend it didn't happen, or to minimize it in any way. We can still pray for a miracle, though!
When I lost my baby Gabriel, I recieved a book titled I'll hold you in heaven that was wonderful. I also wrote a beautiful poem but it is pretty long. I will type it if you are interested let me know.
Unfortunately I don't have any poems for you, but want to let you know I will say a prayer for your friend's granddaughter and the baby. How kind of you to want to reach out to their family and show your support. God bless you.
There's a brand new flower blooming
in God's garden up above,
radiating quiet beauty
in the presence of His love.
It's the baby from our bosom,
gift of Heaven, so soon gone.
Carefully chosen for his sweetness,
in God's choice, we must be strong.
Jesus sent his heavenly gardener
out in search of flowers rare
and he found our little son
and has taken him up there:
Blooming now for time unending,
near God's throne forevermore,
always near his Heavenly Father.
Proverbs 3:6 "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths."
I don't know who wrote this, but thought it had good words.
Rather than something 'commemorative' like you suggested, do something from the heart. Buy a nice card that is blank in the inside. Plenty of to Mom cards in the sympathy line that is not gushing. Practice on paper then transpose your own words. The simpler the better. That card will be tucked away and when you least expect it, you come upon it, read it, and mentally thank that person who wrote such caring words at a time when your world was upside down and you felt as if you could not go on. She may tuck it away and read it every day on the anniversary of the birth date. I have moments like this for things through my life and each time I read something like this, I know that angel is still with me. You can be that angel for the mom. As I said, immediate thoughts will be Oh, nice. But a year from then, 2 years, the cards keep appearing when my days get funky. The tears and thankfulness are refreshing.
I don't have a poem, but I know of a book that may be of some comfort. It is "A Life of Significance". It reminds us that all life, rather short or long, has great importance and meaning because God chose to create that unique, very special being and therefore is a gift to be treasured always. The child, if called "home" will be part of God's eternal family, and one day will spend eternity with all loving family in God. Thank you for caring so much, that will help. Love, support and prayer are the only things that truly help and I will offer my prayers joined with yours.
When my son died, I used to log on to the Compassionate Friends website and there were quite a few poems there. Compassionate Friends is a support group for people who have lost a child. Hope this helps.
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
(1) I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
(2) When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
(Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!)
Text by Mary Frye
I lost my poems on my last computer's harddrive. I remember a poem called "Baby" that could be excerpted (don't have poet's name). I also lost a poem written on a similar occasion and I will use the poems above, too which I like very much.
Go to the site: love this site. It has lots of poems and stories. Very nice.
Thank you all for your input...I knew you guys would come up with some great ideas/words. Just keep praying for this baby and the family. We are counting on God for a miracle!
To the Parents of a Little Angel
When God calls little children
To dwell with Him above
we mortals always question
the wisdom of His love
for no heartache compares with
the death of one small child
who does so much to make this world
seem wonderful and mild
Perhaps God tires calling
the aged to His fold
and 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 must try
the saddest word that mankind knows
will always be "good-bye"
and so when little ones depart
we who are left behind
must realize God loves children
and angels are hard to find.
This poem was sent to me by a friend of my mother's when my baby died soon after birth. I reprinted it on paper with roses and framed it in a double frame with a small cross stitch picture of a teddy bear flying a kite on the other side. The caption at the bottom of the cross stitch was - "Sometimes when it is windy, I fly my kite up high so the angels won't be lonely as they go flying by".
I also added his name, birthdate, lbs and weight so he had a birth sampler the same as the other kids.
I feel very lucky that my dad felt pictures were important so he made sure he took pictures of the baby so I also put a picture and the obituary on the back. Of course not many people are aware of that personal touch, but it means a lot to me. That was 26 years ago, but it is hanging in my library still today.
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