PM (December 24,1942 / Maryland)

Little Miracle

Sick and frail we pray
she be well.

A lot of pain she not
complain. We cradle
her and carress to let
her know we love her so.

Lay my head on my
pillow with great
sorrow and tears.

A saint came to me
in prayer, with overwhelming
feeling and delight.

Our little baby girl is now
grown with children of
her own.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 1

Comments (1)

A beautiful poem about a beautiful story! I am delighted that all is well. A ten!