Little Angels

Little Angels

When God calls little children

To dwell with him above,

We mortals sometime question

The wisdom of His love.

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 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.