A Mother’s Prayers

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my sanity to keep.
For if some peace I do not find,
I’m pretty sure I’ll lose my mind.
  
I pray I find a little quiet
Far from the daily family riot
May I lie back–not have to think
about what they’re stuffing down the sink,
or who they’re with, or where they’re at
and what they’re doing to the cat.
   
I pray for time all to myself
(did something just fall off a shelf?)
To cuddle in my nice, soft bed
(Oh no, another goldfish–dead!)
 
Some silent moments for goodness sake
(Did I just hear a window break?)
And that I need not cook or clean…
(Well heck, I’ve got the right to dream)
   
Yes now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my wits about me keep,
But as I look around I know…
I must have lost them long ago!
   
Anon

Mother’s letter to her child

Dear Child,
 
The Bathroom Door is Closed!
  
Please do not stand here and talk, whine, or ask questions.
 
Wait until I get out.
 
Yes, it is locked. I want it that way. It is not broken, and I am not trapped.
 
I know I have left it unlocked, and even open at times, since you were born, because I was afraid some horrible tragedy might occur while I was in there, but it’s been 10 years and I want some PRIVACY.
  
Do not ask me how long I will be. I will come out when I am done.
  
Do not bring the phone to the bathroom door.
  
Do not go running back to the phone yelling “She’s on the toilet!”
    
Don not stick your little fingers under the door and wiggle them.   This was funny when you were two.
    
Do not slide pennies, LEGOs, or notes under the door. Even when you were two this got a little tiresome.

If you have followed me down the hall talking, and are still talking as you face this closed door, please turn around, walk away, and wait for me in another room. I will be glad to listen to you when I am done.
  
And yes, I still love you,

Mum

I found this when I was clearing out my Mothering Sunday file…I don’t know who wrote it – but I’m told every mother can relate to it…

Sharing Pain with Teddy Bear

Teddy, I’ve been bad again,
My Mommy told me so;
I’m not quite sure what I did wrong,
But I thought that you might know.

When I woke up this morning,
I knew that she was mad;
‘Cause she was crying awful hard,
And yelling at my dad.

I tried my best to be real good,
And do just what she said;
I cleaned my room all by myself,
I even made my bed.

But I spilled milk on my good shirt,
When she yelled at me to hurry;
And I guess she didn’t hear me,
When I told her I was sorry.

‘Cause she hit me awful hard, you see,
And called me funny names;
And told me I was really bad,
And I should be ashamed!

When I said, “I love you, Mommy,”
I guess she didn’t understand;
‘Cause she yelled at me to shut my mouth
Or I’d get smacked again.

So I came up here to talk to you,
Please tell me what to do;
‘Cause I really love my Mommy,
And I know she loves me, too.

And I don’t think my Mommy means,
To hit me quite so hard;
I guess sometimes, grown-ups forget
How really big they are!

So Teddy, I wish you were real,
And you weren’t just a bear;
Then you could help me find a way
To tell Mommies everywhere.

To please try hard to understand.
How sad it makes us feel;
‘Cause the outside pain soon goes away,
But the inside never heals!

And if we could make them listen,
Maybe then they’d understand;
So other children just like me,
Wouldn’t have to hurt again.

But for now, I guess I’ll hold you tight,
And pretend the pain’s not there;
I know you’d never hurt me,
So Goodnight, Teddy Bear!

“It would be better to be thrown into the sea with a large millstone tied around the neck than to face the punishment in store for harming one of these little ones.”
Luke 17:2 NLT

Anon

Yes, I’ll marry you

It’s that time of year again…wedding season.  One of the couples I’m marrying showed me this poem by Pam Ayres which they wish to have read in their wedding service:

Yes, I’ll marry you, my dear,
And here’s the reason why;
So I can push you out of bed
When the baby starts to cry,
And if we hear a knocking
And it’s creepy and it’s late,
I hand you the torch you see,
And you investigate.

Yes I’ll marry you, my dear,
You may not apprehend it,
But when the tumble-drier goes
It’s you that has to mend it,
You have to face the neighbour
Should our labrador attack him,
And if a drunkard fondles me
It’s you that has to whack him.

Yes, I’ll marry you,
You’re virile and you’re lean,
My house is like a pigsty
You can help to keep it clean.
That sexy little dinner
Which you served by candlelight,
As I do chipolatas,
You can cook it every night!

It’s you who has to work the drill
and put up curtain track,
And when I’ve got PMT it’s you who gets the flak,
I do see great advantages,
But none of them for you,
And so before you see the light,
I do, I do, I do!

If you’re reading this

This is a song written by Tim McGraw for the Armed Forces…

If you’re reading this
My momma is sitting there
Looks like I only got a one way ticket over here
I sure wish I could give you one more kiss
War was just a game we played when we were kids
Well I’m laying down my gun
I’m hanging up my boots
I’m up here with God
And we’re both watching over you

So lay me down
In that open field out on the edge of town
And know my soul
Is where my momma always prayed that it would go.
If you’re reading this I’m already home.

If you’re reading this
Half way around the world
I won’t be there to see the birth of our little girl
I hope she looks like you
I hope she fights like me
And stands up for the innocent and the weak
I’m laying down my gun
Hanging up my boots
Tell dad I don’t regret that I followed in his shoes

So lay me down
In that open field out on the edge of town
And know my soul is where my momma always prayed that it would go
If you’re reading this, I’m already home

If you’re reading this, there is going to come a day
You move on and find someone else and that’s okay
Just remember this
I’m in a better place
Where soldiers live in peace and angels sing amazing grace

So lay me down
In that open field out on the edge of town
And know my soul is where my momma always prayed that it would go
If you’re reading this
If you’re reading this
I’m already home

There’s Jesus on my trampoline

I was emailed this poem which was written by Elvis when he was 7 years old.  I thought it was wonderful and worth sharing. Enjoy!
 
There’s Jesus on my trampoline
He is the best I’ve ever seen
And now he’s going down my slide
He will seek and I will hide
He’s with me as I eat my tea
Then back outside to climb a tree
I’ll pull him in my go-cart then
do my homework, watch Ben 10,
Not sure he likes too much TV
But he will always sit with me
Jesus is with me every day
At school at home at work at play
 

 

Heaven’s Special Child

A meeting was held quite far from earth,  
It’s time again for another birth.  
Said the angels to the Lord above;

This special child will need much love  
His progress may be very slow,  
Accomplishments he may not show.  
And he’ll require extra care,  
From the folks he meets down there,

He may not run or laugh or play,  
His thoughts may seem quite far away.  
In many ways he won’t adapt, and he’ll  
Be known as handicapped.

So let’s be careful where he is sent, we want  
His life to be content.

Please, Lord, find the good friends who, will  
Do a special job for you.

They will not realize it right away, the leading  
Role they’re asked to play.  
               But with this child sent from above, comes  
Stronger faith and richer love.  
And soon they will know the privileges given,  
In caring for their gift from Heaven.  
      Their precious charge, so meek and mild, in

Heaven’s  very special child.

Author presently unknown