Gentlewood Farms

A Place Where Babies Are

What kind of place would heaven be
With all it’s streets of gold,
If all the souls that dwell up there
Like yours and mine were old?

How strange would heaven’s music sound
When harps begin to ring,
If youngsters were not gathered ’round
To help the angels sing.

The babies that God sends to us
Are only just on loan.
He knows we need their sunshine
To make earth a happy home.

We need their playful antics 
To make our faces smile. 
He doesn’t say they’ve come to stay
Just lends them for a while.

Sometimes it takes them years to do
The work for which they come,
Sometimes in just a day or two
Creator calls them home.

I like to think some souls up there
Bear not one grown up scar,
I love to think of heaven as
A place where babies are.

Died in ICU  - bacterial infection & complications of early placental detatchment