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Your tiny face was
reddened,
to match your hair of
flame;
As in my arms you
nestled,
not knowing of my
shame.

You did not see the
teardrops
that fell upon your
face;
They told an ageless
story,
and spoke of my
disgrace.

Your life could well
have ended,
while still within my
womb;
A tiny, half~formed
body,
Excavated from its
tomb.

Or, then again,
another's arms,
could be holding you
tenderly;
So grateful for my
giving you,
would that barren
woman be.

In confusion, yes, and
anguish,
a decision must be
made;
The final choice was
nearing,
could that "still small
Voice" persuade?

Indeed, though still,
I heard it,
soft, but clearly, and
oh, so plain;
"If you follow my
direction, child,
I'll remove each
guilty stain".

So, instead of your
story ending,
or, at best, being
rearranged;
God's plan now began
unfolding,
And our lives were
forever changed.

How was I to know
our future,
or see what lay just
beyond?
But, I sensed there was
between us,
a strong and lasting
bond.

You grew from babe to
toddler,
nurtured by a loving
heart;
of a sweet and giving
grandmother,
trying hard to do
her part.

For mother wanted her
own way,
and must not be
denied;
No sacrifice would be
too great,
not children's lives
nor pride.

And you hung in the
balance,
Self~will run riot
again;
A tender flower touch'd
by God,
would long for love's
sweet rain.

One place and then,
another,
while mother did her
"thing";
A "daddy" here, a
"daddy" there,
New rules, each time,
they'd bring.

And all the while this
tender flower,
was fighting to hold
on;
To life and to a
mother who,
was there one day . . .
. . then gone.

Your words still echo
in my mind,
"I want to be just
like you";
How clearly I can hear
them now,
since light has broken
through.

Spoken with such
innocence,
such child~like love
and care;
How could you know
the wealth untold,
that one day they'd
declare?

How could I know that
one day,
A great price would
be paid;
For self~will on the
rampage,
and the choices I had
made.

"IF only I can be
like you",
The little flower
cried;
Those words came ringing
in my heart,
that day your virtue
died.

Yes, both our hearts
were broken,
but your pain was
greater still;
For another sacrifice
was made,
upon the altar of
SELF~WILL !

And only GOD could
heal the pain,
I know you bore that
day;
When the sacrifice was
your tiny son,
What a price you had
to pay.

And, I can't tell you
of the pain,
that broke my heart
in two;
When God spoke those
familiar words,
"You see, she's just
like you"!

Oh, sweetest flower,
can you forgive,
this foolish mother's
heart;
for causing you such
grief & pain,
by failing to do my
part?

The scales have fallen
from my eyes,
Thank God, at last,
I see;
for God, Himself,
removed my chains,
and set this captive
free.

And, Tender Flower,
it's all so clear,
He used your life to
speak;
of what His strength
and power can do,
in those who truly
seek.

Seek to be the kind
of wife,
that God's Word does
declare;
yielding to your mate
in love,
what joy it is to
share.

For you are just the
kind of wife,
that I shall strive
to be;
You've set the best
example, dear,
that I shall ever
see.

I see in you the
very fruit,
my life has needed so;
The qualities of love
and grace,
So precious do they
grow.

Just one more thing I
want to say,
believe me, for it
is true;
Before God finishes
with my life,
"I Want to be Just
Like You" !
Mary Carter Mizrany
June 3, 1983
Dedicated to Dana Lynn
(Mizrany) Alfano,
a precious flower of
my life.
Mother is so very
proud of you,
precious angel, and I
love & respect you.
With deepest love,
Mother xo

All poems listed in
~Garden Of Heart~Treasures~
~Friendship's
Garden Heart Songs~
~Garden
Of Serenity~
New poems added often!
  
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Lovely Angel
Art by:
Deb Harris
Midi is
entitled:
Tender Love
By:
Bruce DeBoer
Copyrighted
and used with
permission.
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