Mommy
By David Roth
© 30th August, 2005
Tiny bundle,
angry hands flailing
little voice seeming
at the moment, not so little.
Feed me
Change me
Hold me
Sing to me
Love me
Little eyes filled with affection
staring with perfect trust,
uncertain, worried eyes
glancing back.
'Children are a heritage
From the Lord'
she heard the older woman say,
and she always dreamed
of a child of her own,
But not like this.
Barely more than a child
Herself.
Fourteen years old.
Babies making babies.
How alone she feels,
holding the priceless gift,
that for the moment
seems such a heavy burden.
But she will prevail.
A child herself,
today she has a new name.
Today and forever more
She is 'Mommy'
A child herself,
She knows
The great God of Heaven
hears her prayers,
prayers of the children.,
and today,
knowing only a taste
of the difficulties to come,
today she thanks Him
in a grateful shower of tears.
Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward. (Psalm 127:3, KJV)