When you see me on the street
Please, don't pass me by.
Stop and ask me how I am,
Even if I cry.
For the loss, you see,
Can never be replaced.
But each day I try my best
To wear a happy face.
So, when you see me on the street
Please, don't pass me by.
Copyright © 1991 Marsha E. Wait
AS MUCH AS IT HURTS
As much as it hurts;
As much as we agree with our religion
And try to understand GOD's Master Plan;
Or perhaps we already know
That GOD has a Master Plan;
But don't quite understand it;
In either case GOD understands
That we are "imperfect human beings"
And knows that, no matter how much we try
To understand His Master Plan,
Losing a loved-one hurts!
As much as it hurts;
We have to be strong enough to carry on,
As our dearly departed would expect us to;
We need to have faith that we will someday
See each other again;
But only this time, it'll be for all Eternity,
Living in true peace without the hurt.
As much as it hurts;
Think about this:
One minute in Heaven
Is equal to 100 years on Earth;
For us, the next 10, 20, 50 or even 75 years,
Living without a loved-one hurts;
But for them, it'll be like you dropped them off at a restaurant
And parked the car.
They'll turn and spot you and say:
"OH! There you are!"
As much as it hurts;
Think about this:
As you pray for the faithful departed loved-one(s) of your life;
End your prayers and,
As you used to answer your Mom or Dad
As they called you to the dinner table,
Gently whisper: "Be with you in a MINUTE!"
Copyright © 2001 Larry Josephs
I wrote this for my passed grandfather, who I lost when I was very young.
AS I WALK
As I walk through his tunnel
I see a great light
In the tunnel
No one kills, steals or fights
I continue to walk
At least as long as I can
For at the end of the tunnel
I hear their song
My long journey will finish soon
It will not be long
As I walk a little further
I see the gates so near
I walk some more
I have nothing to fear
I enter the gates made of silver and gold
Gates of which any mortal would long to hold
There are many people here
All dressed in white dove lace
I finally fit in; I have found my place
Looking around I decide to stay
I will be happy, I do not fear
For all sorrow and suffering
Was too much to bear
I am in heaven, finally here
Written in 2001 by Elizabeth C., Age 14 --- Ontario, Canada
THIS ONE'S FOR ERIK
On August 10, 1996, my wife Susan and I lost our son and our daughter Tara lost her brother, Erik, to a battle with a bone marrow disease. Erik was 21.
Erik played lacrosse at Clifton High School where he was a co-captain and went on to play at Kean University where he became rookie of the year in 1994 and was an integral part of their championship season in 1995.
When he was diagnosed with myelodysplaisia syndrome, he took the news as if he was told who his next opponent was on the lacrosse field; matter of fact and the attitude of a warrior: that is we will win, we will fight.
Erik battled for 3 months from May of 1996 until August of 1996 when he passed away. During that time he was unflinching in his battle and was an inspiration to all who met him, including his team of doctors.
He never quit, never complained, and never gave up: the consummate warrior.
When the end was near, my wife and I were holding his hand. Up until about 30 minutes before he passed away, he refused to lie down.
Erik never knew the words "I can't" or "I quit". I finally told him, "Even warriors rest, so why not lay down for a while?", full well knowing what would happen.
He tried to move in bed and said, "That's it". I helped him move and he looked at my wife and me. We held his hand and he went to sleep. Several minutes later he was gone. His sister and friends were with him also.
Erik, this is for you. You were and always will be an inspiration to all who knew you. Your mom and I could not have asked for a better son and I know Tara loved you just as much. We love you so very much and miss you every day, but as the warrior you were, so too will we go on and never quit.
The best way to honor anyone who has passed away is to live each day to its fullest. Never quit. The loss of a child never leaves you. It hurts every day but you do go on, you do live.
So Erik, we love you big guy. We'll all be together someday. We miss you. This one's for you.
Written by Ed Johnson
Lord what can I do to show her
The pain that she's going through
Lord I see her sitting there,
With that look of fear on her face,
A look of fear with no embrace
Lord she doesn't deserve this
What if I give her a kiss?
Would this give her sweet bliss?
Lord all I want is to see her smile
That smile I know she had for a while.
Lord what can I do to help her out?
To show her I can't live with out
Lord what if she dies?
I can't live without the one that I love
The one that I call MOM.
Lord she can't die
I could never say buh-bye
I wish her pain would fly, Lord,
Away to a land where no one can go
Not even the devil we all know
Lord let me trade places
Let me take her pain
Let her free Lord
Let her live
Let her live
Till the day that you come
Till the day that she's really done.
So Lord I'm begging you
Take her pain away
And give it to me Lord
Cuz I want her to live
Even if I die
I want her to live
To let her see tomorrow
Free of pain
Lord, cuz my greatest fear
Is that she will die tonight
Not knowing how I feel
So help me Lord
Or no, help her Lord
Because no one on earth
Could help her more, besides you!
I LOVE YOU MOM!
Written by Maellen S., Age 15 --- Washington
This came from my heart for a 13 year old child who just lost her mother to cancer.
I do not know you; yet I do.
Child of God whose head bends in sorrow.
I long to hold you to give you comfort,
And cradle you in my arms as you cry.
Your mother has gone to God.
To the place where sparrows fly and angels sing.
Grief pierces your heart!
Why me, oh God! Why me?
May the love and comfort of Christ surround you.
Let Him hold you tightly, as a babe.
There is no pain in the place where Christ resides.
There is joy, beauty and light.
As you grow, I will pray for you.
I will remember you.
I too, was a child of God, my head bent in sorrow.
Now I am a child of God, a child who loves you.
I do not know you; yet I do.
Copyright © 2001 Joey Robertson
This is a poem dedicated to my dad who passed from this life on October 20, 2001. I miss him so very much and wish I'd told him how much I loved him before he died.
It is strange to think of you now gone
Never to sing another old song
Never to place a bet on the horses
Never to try and alter our courses
But now you sleep among angels and clouds
Never to weep or never to frown
Forever at peace, no more pain shall you feel
Never to wonder if you will heal
But one thing I'm sure off, we'll all meet you there
Together forever in all that we share.
Copyright © 2001 Sharon Ziepe
"On the darkest night, the stars shine most brightly."
Submitted by Jessica Fradono --- Florida
I wrote this poem a few weeks after I lost my daughter, Kirsty-Marie. She was 9 years old, and lost her fight for life after a tragic road accident. This was three and a half years ago now, but this poem still means as much to me as it did when I wrote it.
Why take my child, why not my cat?
I'm sorry God, but I'm angry about that.
Because I don't understand, why she had to die,
You've got my child, and all I do is cry.
Please let her be happy, in a wonderful land,
And being looked after, because I can't hold her hand.
She's not here to cuddle, when I shed a tear,
So please stroke her cheek, I can't reach her from here.
Please let her hear me say 'I love you', and I'll blow kisses,
And I'll trust you to guide them, so not a single one misses,
And when I come to heaven, when you choose my time too,
I'll see my little girl smile, and understand why you do what you do.
Copyright © 1998 Sharon Cox
I lost my 16-year-old son Christopher on June 21, 2001, due to drowning. There are no words to express my immense pain. My family and I are going through our lives day by day, which is all we can do. My handsome young son was such a strong, good, kind soul that brought happiness to everyone. Chris was a young man who looked up to his older brother, John age 20 and who adored his baby brother Ben age 4. There will forever be an emptiness in our lives with the loss of Chris. The day after Chris died, John wrote a poem for his brother to articulate his feelings at that time.
You were more than a brother; you were my best friend
I love you more than the world and until forever's end
Chris you were my baby boy
You are my heart and soul, my pride and joy
Chris I want you to know I'm proud of you
You were part me, my better half
I'd give my life to have you
Back with your friends and family but you have passed
I can't accept that you are dead
For I believe you are resting in heaven's bed
You will be in my heart, my mind and soul
I guess I will see you at the crossroads
Chris I hope you know that I tried
I was there at your birth and the day you died
This will haunt me until the end of time
I want you to know you will be forever mine
Chris you can't be deceased
In my eyes you are resting in peace
I will never forget that horrible day
I love you Chris, so in heaven go play
Copyright © 2001 John Rueben
Submitted by Melissa Fischer --- Minnesota
There are times for mourning
And times of grace
Times for closeness
Times for space
In the end, when said and done
I am left, the only one
Feeling lonely feeling down
Until I hear God's soothing sound
Life's to short to mourn and mope
Be happy and have new found hope
I am alone, this I know
But a single tear I do not show
Mourning's healthy, yes indeed
But in the end, where does it lead?
To more sorrows and more pain
Until there's nothing left to gain
Get on with life and be strong
Get up and dance and sing a song
Be happy and forever free
You know I would, if that were me
Copyright © 2001 Jason Lento
DIRGE WITHOUT MUSIC
I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains,--but the best is lost.
The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love, --
They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
Edna St.Vincent Millay
Submitted by Martha Varzaly --- Pennsylvania
About a month and a half before my mother died, due to domestic violence, she told me that she was working on a poem. While gathering her things, I found it. It is a beautiful poem. I hope someone else can enjoy it as much as I have.
Life is a book in volumes three,
The past, the present and the yet to be.
The past we've written and laid away,
The present we're living day by day.
The last and best of volumes three,
Is locked from sight
God keeps the key.
Written by Kathlene Lease
Submitted by Nichole C. --- Oklahoma
"Time is the Healer....But Love is the Cure.."
Submitted by B.Conroy --- Pennsylvania
My father died yesterday, October 13, 2001. Nothing will ever be the same.
God looked around his garden, and he saw an empty place.
He then looked down upon the earth and saw your tired face.
He put his arms around you and he lifted you to rest-
God's garden must be beautiful-he always takes the best.
He knew that you were suffering-he knew you were in pain.
He knew that you would never get well on this earth again.
He saw the road was getting rough-the hills were hard to climb.
So he closed your weary eyes and whispered, "Peace Be Thine."
It broke my heart to lose you, but you did not go alone.
For part of me went with you the day God called you home.
Submitted by Stacey Wright --- Florida
TO MY FATHER:
"Today you have become free by death as no one can be free in life.
Take that gift and fly."
Copyright © 2001 Susan DeJong
This was written as a tribute to my late mother who passed away in January 2000. I believe many people can relate to this on a personal level.
THE WINGS OF A MOTHER
Who would have known that one-day your wings could embrace so many people and so many lives? Raising your children, nourishing, teaching and enriching their lives. Morals and values you did teach. At that time, they did not realize nor understand, but now, so cherished by each and everyone.
Protecting and teaching them each and every day. Hoping and praying they wouldn't go astray. Having the courage to let them fall, not picking them up, but helping them find their way. Letting them feel the hurt and pain, realizing the lesson at hand. Only to grow and strengthen their lives in the most helpful way.
Never holding back on your thoughts or your feelings, even if it wasn't in the direct kind of way. Unconsciously letting them know that they'd never be alone, but have each other, and not a foe. Loving each one of them in a slightly different way and touch. Still in focus of what was at hand, raising and encouraging them to be their own.
It didn't matter if they were not all the same. It only mattered that they all remain. Spreading your love and tenderness to so many. Many of who miss you so dearly. Missing that soft gentle kiss. The kindness, the warmth of a hug, your laughter, the security of your arms, and the feelings of serenity that only a mother could give.
Now they look around. They can't see your humanly being. It's the memories and the feelings of every day life that bring them inner peace. Knowing your wings are so ever large, you're in the blue skies, the sun, the clouds, the winds, the snow, the rains, the gentle breezes that touch their beings, and the heavens and the earth. They can feel your presence wherever they go. You're in the eyes of all those you have touched; a constant reminder that you are watching over them.
Gentle reminders each and every day, take them back to yesterday. Never wondering why you had to go, but feeling relief you don't have to endure any more pain. You're not here in the physical way, but they all can hear you, smell you, feel your love and kindness. They look at their siblings, their children, nephews and nieces, each a constant reminder of a loving mother, a friend, and wonderful human being. They pray for you to keep your wings spread open wide and guide them through their journeys called life.
Copyright © 2000 Daniel L. Brown
This is a poem written for my best friend, Nanar, who died due to a fatal mistake of a doctor during surgery.
I thought that I had nothing, but I had ev'rything.
For it didn't mean a thing to me,
Until that day, when I was told, that the only life, of you,
I might, ever see again,
Was on photographs, that captured still, the light in your eyes.
I realized, that I had seen it every day, and not given it much thought.
Until I missed, in my life,
Written by Elke B., Age 16 --- N. Holland, Netherlands
Even when we weep, it seems as though the load is too heavy to bear. I hope this story helps even just one person. Know that my prayers are with you, and will remain as long as I draw breath.
They say that all is remembered by the earth. Every rock tells the story of a life gone by. Every bit of dust is unto a soul passed on, only to shed it's load and enter into Heaven's Gates.
Remember the Acacia tree...
A seed so small in a sea of sand and grass. A creature that seems too frail to survive in the land it was placed upon. With no rain to stay it's thirst and many dangers to over come, this little seed doth grow.
As the years pass, it becomes a great towering tree bearing fruit to sustain the gentle antelope; thorn laden limbs to guard the birds. The mighty lion finds shade here when the sun beats down upon the earth in a relentless tirade.
And when the time comes, and the rains wash away the soil, and this mighty life withers to this earth, casting not a shadow. No longer to bear fruit, it returns to the soil, in death.
But do not weep, for even without breath it still lives on in the minds of all that saw her. She will linger. To the soil, her life returns the favor that was once granted unto her.
Somewhere in a desert, where life seems to falter, a little seedling reaches towards the sky, praising this chance, that it may live for but even one moment.
Copyright © 2001 Jocelyn Burke
My son's journey through cancer has taught me many things about the sanctity of life and the precious gifts with which God has entrusted us - our children. I have learned much in my travels. I have cherished many a smile, shed many a tear. And always, I am thankful that I was among those who journeyed along the road less traveled. In loving memory of my son, Nicholas Alexander Roi, my companion along the way.
THE DAY AN ANGEL CAME TO VISIT
A gentle breeze whispered through the trees as the golden sun rose in the summer sky. It was a perfect day for angels... The little princess dashed to find her Barbie slippers and even put them on all by herself. It was a proud moment for a two-year-old. "Mommy, I'm making you some chocolate tea!" she chirped merrily.
Outside, the birds sang their sweet songs. The pansies turned their faces to the sun. The little girl gazing out the window of her room was reminded of reality, only by the sound of her mother's voice. "Time to get dressed!" she called. The morning ritual was always interesting and filled with surprises. Today was no exception.
The little princess, in a voice as clear as a songbird's, was singing the beautiful melody she had heard in one of her favorite movies. "I know you, I walked with you, once upon a dream..." Yet, as heavenly as the tiny voice sounded, it was the sight of a dancing queen that brought tears of joy to her mother's eyes. It looked almost as though the little girl were dancing with an imaginary partner.
"I'm dancing with my friend. I'm dancing with my brother!" was the innocent reply when the question arose. It was then, that a mother's heavy heart knew that an angel had come to visit that day.
Copyright © 2000 Cori Roi
Epilogue: The princess in this story is my now almost five-year-old daughter, Nadia, and her imaginary dance partner is her brother, Nicholas, who passed away when he was four-and-a-half years old from leukemia to be with the angels. I am the mother who is blessed to have been witness to such inspirational moments as the one retold in this story.
I do voluntary work at a local hospital three days a week, more if I can, and I spend a lot of time on a ward for children with terminal illnesses. I've helped there for nearly three years now and have had to get used to dealing with death. It's not easy to see anyone suffer or die, least of all young children, and it hurts like mad to be around them.
A lot of people ask me why I put myself through the pain of forming relationships with these kids who are then taken from us and the answer is simple: It's because they are so special. Despite what they are going through, they are still so strong, so brave, and display a love so rare. Perhaps more importantly, I can walk away at the end of the day and leave them with their families and their pain.
They have to go through it; they have no choice. No one can change what is happening to him or her; it's out of our control.
But one thing, which is in my control, is whether they and their families go through this alone, or have another network of friends who accept what is happening and support them.
A few weeks ago a guy called Jack died. I'd known him for the nineteen months he had battled with his illness and in that time, I think he had been more of a friend to me than I had to him. His death hit me really hard and I felt honored when he asked me a few days before he died if I would read a poem, this poem called "Next of Kin" at his funeral.
I've noticed several pieces of work by Christina Rossetti in this section of the site and I have read many others which help me to realize that death of those we love is a part of life and is something we must accept and move on from, as those we love would want us to.
NEXT OF KIN
The shadows gather round me:
While you are in the sun:
My day is almost ended,
But yours is just begun:
The winds are singing to us both
And the streams are singing still,
And they fill your heart with music,
But mine they cannot fill.
Your home is built in sunlight,
Mine in another day:
Your home is close at hand, sweet friend,
But mine is far away:
Your bark is in the haven
Where you fain would be:
I must launch out into the deep,
Across the unknown sea.
You, white as dove
Or lily or spirit of the light:
I, stained and cold and glad to hide
In the cold dark night:
You, joy to many a loving heart
And light to many eyes:
I, lonely in the knowledge
That life is full of vanities.
Yet when your day is over,
As mine is nearly done,
And when your race is finished,
As mine is almost run,
You, like me, shall cross your hands
And bow your graceful head:
Yea, we twain shall sleep together
In an equal bed.
Submitted by Julian G., Age 17 --- England, United Kingdom
At the prodding of my friends, I am writing this story. My name is Mildred Hondorf. I am a former elementary school music teacher from Iowa. I've always supplemented my income by teaching piano lessons--something I've done for over 30 years.
Over the years I found that children have many levels of musical ability. I've never had the pleasure of having a protege, though I have taught some talented students. However I've also had my share of what I call "musically challenged" pupils. One such student was Robby.
Robby was 11 years old when his mother (a single mom) dropped him off for his first piano lesson. I prefer that students (especially boys!) begin at an earlier age, which I explained to Robby. But Robby said that it had always been his mother's dream to hear him play the piano. So I took him as a student.
Well, Robby began with his piano lessons and, from the beginning, I thought it was a hopeless endeavor. As much as Robby tried, he lacked the sense of tone and basic rhythm needed to excel. But he dutifully reviewed his scales and some elementary pieces that I require all my students to learn.
Over the months he tried and tried while I listened and cringed and tried to encourage him. At the end of each weekly lesson he'd always say, "My mom's going to hear me play some day." But it seemed hopeless. He just did not have any inborn ability.
I only knew his mother from a distance as she dropped Robby off or waited in her aged car to pick him up. She always waved and smiled but never stopped in. Then one day Robby stopped coming to our lessons. I thought about calling him but assumed, because of his lack of ability, that he had decided to pursue something else. I also was glad that he stopped coming. He was a bad advertisement for my teaching!
Several weeks later I mailed to the student's homes a flyer on the upcoming recital. To my surprise Robby (who received a flyer) asked me if he could be in the recital. I told him that the recital was for current pupils and because he had dropped out he really did not qualify. He said that his mom had been sick and unable to take him to piano lessons but he was still practicing.
"Miss Hondorf...I've just got to play!" he insisted. I don't know what led me to allow him to play in the recital. Maybe it was his persistence or maybe it was something inside of me saying that it would be all right.
The night for the recital came. The high school gymnasium was; packed with parents, friends and relatives. I put Robby up last in the program before I was to come up and thank all the students and play a finishing piece. I thought that any damage he would do would come at the end of the program and I could always salvage his poor performance through my "curtain closer."
Well the recital went off without a hitch. The students had been practicing and it showed. Then Robby came up on stage. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair looked like he' run an eggbeater through it. "Why didn't he dress up like the other students?" I thought. "Why didn't his mother at least make him comb his hair for this special night?"
Robby pulled out the piano bench and he began. I was surprised when he announced that he had chosen Mozart's Concerto #21 in C Major. I was not prepared for what I heard next. His fingers were light on the keys, they even danced nimbly on the ivories. He went from pianissimo to fortissimo...from allegro to virtuoso. His suspended chords that Mozart demands were magnificent! Never had I heard Mozart played so well by people his age. After six and a half minutes he ended in a grand crescendo and everyone was on their feet in wild applause. Overcome and in tears I ran up on stage and put my arms around Robby in joy. "I've never heard you play like that Robby! How'd you do it?"
Through the microphone Robby explained: "Well Miss Hondorf...remember I told you my mom was sick? Well actually she had cancer and passed away this morning. And well....she was born deaf, so tonight was the first time she ever heard me play. I wanted to make it special."
There wasn't a dry eye in the house that evening. As the people from Social Services led Robby from the stage to be placed into foster care, I noticed that even their eyes were red and puffy and I thought to myself how much richer my life had been for taking Robby as my pupil. No, I've never had a protege, but that night I became a protege...of Robby's.
He was the teacher and I was the pupil for it is he that taught me the meaning of perseverance and love and believing in yourself and maybe even taking a chance on someone and you don't know why.
This is especially meaningful to me since, after serving in Desert Storm, Robby was killed in the senseless bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City in April of 1995, where he was reportedly....playing the piano.
We all have thousands of opportunities a day to help realize God's plan. So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice: Do we pass along a spark of the Divine or do we pass up that opportunity, and leave the world a bit colder in the process?
Submitted by M.M. --- Ohio
"If you have a problem, look to Jesus, because he is the man with all the answers. If in doubt of Jesus, it's not him that you need to doubt, because he is always there. Read your bible everyday for it has solutions to problems that you may not even have yet. And if God doesn't make sense right now, it is because you do not see the big picture of what he is doing in your life. Look to Jesus, for he is the answer. Grief isn't forever, for there is joy in the name of the Lord."
Copyright © 2001 Nick Shunk
"When in grief, blend your will with the Lord's and you are sure to find peace."
Mabel Gonsalves --- Maharashtra, India
In Loving memory of my daughter Kelly Kromer 8-21-78/4-21-95
"Those we love remain with us, for love itself lives on,
And cherished memories never fade because a loved one's gone.
Those we love can never be more than a thought apart,
For as long as there is a memory, they'll live on in the heart."
Submitted by Tammy Kromer --- Ohio
On August 6, 2001, you came for an angel that I loved. Yes, I say an angel because that is the one way to describe her. She was my sister, Rosa. She was 59 years old and had down syndrome. She is the only person that I can say loved everyone unconditional. It was us who forgot what we had in our lives and took her for granted.
So may years passed by that I had not seen her. I always say that, "Oh I'll go see her tomorrow". Well tomorrow came I never went. Doctors say she lived beyond the normal life span of these children. I know why she was waiting for me to go see her but I never went. Last month she was consistently on my mind, however I did not go looking for her until it was too late.
I received a phone call on 08/07/01 informing me that she had passed away. Now, how I wish that I could turn back time so that I could see her on last time and tell her how much I love her and miss her.
I wish I could ask her for her forgiveness for not being there for her. I know that she never forgot me because I was given some of her belongings and found pictures of me that she treasured. I will treasure her belongings and pray that I will see her again when it is my time to go. So please God, take care of her and tell that I love her.
For she was an angel amongst us that we had, but took for granted.
Copyright © 2001 Elida Robles
Wherever you are, I miss you so much. Tears coming rolling down my eyes because I don't have you anymore. My heart is broken into so many pieces, that you wouldn't understand. You mean so much to me.
Now you're in heaven. I saw your wallet; I forget what you look like. No one understands the pain I am going through. People hurt my feelings. Sometimes I think of you and wonder what you're doing.
I miss you so much, Dad, I love you so much. You're in heaven with angels dancing around you or you're resting in peace.
Written by Minna Talviharju --- Massachusetts
On February 13th 2001, the most important person in my life died. At age 45, Louette M. Behan was taken off life support after being in the hospital for 13 days. She had congestive heart failure and she went too long without oxygen to her brain. She was the most loving person in my life, my best friend, my teacher, but best of all she was my mother; God how I miss her. It's been 6 months and I'm trying to move on.
My homily-- " for everything there is a season."
" I want my family to move on with their lives, and realize everything is for a reason. Have no regrets. Everybody did everything they could. I love you all and will still be with you."
Hopefully this poem will help others as it has me.
A FAREWELL PRAYER
"Thank you Lord for seeing how weary I am, and letting me rest
The pain is gone; the peace is beautiful,
Your love surrounds me.
I have fought the good fight and somehow now at this stage,
No matter what the outcome,
I feel I have won."
Submitted by Janelle B. ---California
A quote on my Dad's memorial stone:
"To the world you were just one,
To us you were our world."
Raewyn Scawboard --- North Island, New Zealand
In Loving Memory of Ms. Julie G.
A Message To Julie:
When I came and saw you, you didn't look that bad. You had a certain glow, but still everyone was sad. You talked as if, you'd last forever, even though we knew, your days were becoming brief, and your breaths were shorter too. But I knew, in my heart, everything would be all right; I knew you were tired of the never-ending fight. So, I gave you one last hug and kiss, then cried my one last cry, as I thanked myself for coming, because at least I said good-bye.
Written by Rachel S., Age 15 --- Connecticut