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Olivia's Wings

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An Angel wrote in the book of life ...
... about my baby's birth
She whispered as she closed the book,
"Too beautiful for this earth."



A tiny flower lent not given,
to bud on earth
and bloom in heaven

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These are my footprints, so perfect and so small.
These tiny footprints never touched the ground at all.
Not one tiny tiny footprint, for now I have my wings.
These tiny footprints were meant for other things.

You will hear my tiny footprints, in the patter of the rain.
Gentle drops like angels tears, of joy and not from pain.
You will see my tiny footprints in each butterflies' lazy dance.
I'll let you know I'm with you, if you give me just a chance.

You will see my tiny footprints, in the rustle of the leaves.
I will whisper names into the wind, and call each one that grieves.
Most of all these footprints are found in Mommy's heart,
cause even though I'm gone now,
we'll never truly part.

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WHY GOD TAKES CHILDREN

When God calls little children
to dwell with Him above,
We mortals sometimes 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 so wonderful and mild.
Perhaps God tires of calling
the aged to His fold,
So He picks a rosebud
before it can grow old.
God knows how much we need them
and so He takes but a few,
To make the land of heaven
more beautiful to view.
Believing this is difficult
still somehow we must try,
The saddest word mankind knows
will always be Good~bye.
So when a little child departs,
we who are left behind,
Must realize God loves children,
Angels are hard to find. . . .

Author Unknown

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If tears could build a stairway, and memories a lane.
We would walk all the way to heaven,
To bring you home again.
No farewell words were spoken,
no time to say goodbye.
You were gone before we knew it,
and only God knows why.
Our hearts still ache in sadness,
Our secret tears still flow.
What it meant to lose you . . .
. . . no one will ever know!

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You never said I'm leaving
You never said goodbye
You were gone before I knew it
And only God knew why

A million times I needed you
A million times I've cried
If love alone could have saved you
You never would have died

In life I loved you dearly
In death I love you still
In my heart you hold a place
That no one can ever fill

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Go ahead and mention my child
The one that died, you know
Don't worry about hurting me further
The depth of my pain does not show

Don't worry about making me cry
I am already crying inside
Help me release the tears
That I try to hide

I am hurt when you just keep silent
Pretending he did not exist
I'd rather you mention my child
Knowing that he has been missed

If you ask me how I'm doing
I'd say "pretty good" or "fine"
But healing is something ongoing
I feel it will take a lifetime

Author Unknown

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As I pursue the aisles,
of the local store,
I see things more differently,
than I ever have before.

"Daddy's Little Angel",
the embroidered bibs do read.
But, Daddy's angel is in Heaven,
and bibs she does not need.

She does not need a bottle,
a dress or a toy.
Of buying those things for her,
we shall never know the joy.

There are tiny jars of baby food,
that she will never eat,
And shiny shoes with buckles,
that will never touch her feet.

As the bikes and trikes taunt me,
from high up on the rack,
Tears will break free from my eyes,
if I dare look back
 
I run off to the restroom,
to blow my nose and cry.
I wipe my eyes, swallow hard,
and let out a sigh.

I must go face the paper,
college and wide rule,
That my little angel,
will never use in school.

I hurry past the greeting cards,
that the people chose with care,
And I am reminded,
of the holidays we shall not share.

In the checkout line I bow my head,
and heavy is my heart,
For the family right in front of me,
has a newborn in their cart.

Shopping in the local store,
used to be mundane.
Now every aisle's full of items,
which remind me of my pain.

So, quick as I can, I give the cashier,
the money from my purse,
And hurry away from those
who don't know my pain,
in this foreignly happy universe.

By Linda Vicory

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In the rising of the sun and its going down,
We will remember Olivia.
In the flowing of the wind and in the chill of winter,
In the opening of buds and in the rebirth of spring,
In the blueness of the sky and in the warmth of summer,
In the rustling of leaves and in the beauty of autumn,
We will remember Olivia.
In the beginning of the year and when it ends,
When we are weary and in need of strength,
When we are lost and sick at heart,
We will remember Olivia.
When we have joys to share,
So long as we live, she too shall live,
For she is a part of us,
As we remember Olivia.
She was so small, so beautiful, so full of hope and promise.
She drew us together in our anxiety.
Her life ended prematurely; just before she was to be born.
Too soon she died. We wept. The tears continue.
We hugged and held one another.
Our hearts emptier for her absence and the unfulfilled dreams.
But, God, Thank You for the blessing.
Thank you for Olivia, our blessed angel child of grace.

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For a brief and fleeting moment,
An angel touched the ground;
With tiny wings and halo,
And sweet, soft angel sounds.

Blessing the lives of others,
In beauty and in grace;
Those who saw her knew that God
Had kissed her tiny face.

The angel came for reasons,
We may not understand;
Her journey brief, with gifts so great,
And guided by God's hand.

For the angel left so much behind,
Left nothing here undone;
She gave herself so others live,
Just like her Father's Son.

So, rest now tiny angel,
Your work on earth is through;
In the beauty of God's perfect love,
We saw His gift in you.

Allison Chambers Coxsey

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