Hear the grieving mother.
Watch a father in despair.
Families touched by sadness,
surrounded by those who care.
Winter’s chill upon us.
Nights seem much more stark.
Yet choirs sing of Christmas
and a light shines in the dark.
It begins as a whisper,
then lands upon your face.
It’s snowing in New England
on a very special place.
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Look up to the gentle flakes
falling from the sky –
they are children dressed as angels –
sent from "up on high."
They come around this time each year –
to remind us here on earth –
just how precious children are
and how very much they’re worth.
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To those filled with sadness
trust that deep within your heart –
your children all are angels
and you’re never far apart.
Soon they will come back again,
as gentle snowflakes too –
living up in a holy place
and returning each year new.
By Bob Houghtaling
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