Child Death

Lent 31 ~ Light by the Door

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          Look, Mother, by the door . . . shining light, very beautiful. ~ Blessed Francisco Marto, Fatima Seer, moments before his death, 4 April, 1919.

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          What a great mother this child had. She returned, not one, but two beautiful children to the Lord in perfect holiness. She watched them fall ill, nursed them as best as she could. She had to let one be taken away from her, she must have known when breath left both. As there are books on all three seers, I wish there was at least one on Francisco’s mother. Just to press close to her life, be a part of it through the pages.

          To know the heart that beat through both grief and joy.

          And at the end of it, to whisper a plea that she press to that same heart, mothers bound by a bond that marks and sets apart.

          The bond of being blessed with children who saw the Light that is both a farewell and a welcome.

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Blessed Francisco Marto, 11 June 1908 – 4 April 1919, Fatima, Portugal

 

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Tears Tucked Away

There are some lost souls who stop parents from mourning babies lost through stillborn births and miscarriages. These lost souls deny us the right to weep our grief, and dream a life of what-ifs. Mourning a baby not seen, not held, is foreign to them, and so, they surmise, it must be wrong. And they proceed to educate us on the wrongness of this our dirge of grief.

Sometimes, against our better instincts, we buckle under the social pressure exerted on us by those who have not loved a baby who once blessed our wombs. We bury the tears and smother the pain under the guise of tight smiles and a getting-on-with-life.

But the knife of grief remains hidden for a time, awaiting its unsheathing.

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An Angel Never Dies

Don’t let them say I wasn’t born,
That something stopped my heart
I felt each tender squeeze you gave,
I’ve loved you from the start.

Although my body you can’t hold
It doesn’t mean I’m gone
This world was worthy, not of me
God chose that I move on.

I know the pain that drowns your soul,
What you are forced to face
You have my word, I’ll fill your arms,
Someday we will embrace.

You’ll hear that it was meant to be,
God doesn’t make mistakes
But that wont soften your worst blow,
Or make your heart not ache.

I’m watching over all you do,
Another child you’ll bear
Believe me when I say to you,
That I am always there.

There will come a time, I promise you,
When you will hold my hand,
Stroke my face and kiss my lips
And then you’ll understand.

Although I’ve never breathed your air,
Or gazed into your eyes
That doesn’t mean I never was,
An Angel never dies.

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