When God calls little children to dwell with Him above We mortals sometime question the wisdom of his love. For no heartache compares with the death of one small child Who does so much to make our world seem wonderful and mild. Perhaps God tires of calling the aged to his fold. So He picks a rosebud before it can grow old. So when a little child departs, we who are left behind Must realize God loves children.
Angels are hard to find.
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