Rose M. Griffin
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The Child I Was
The child I was, so many years ago,
Too young to understand my loneliness
Or know that sorrow as well as joy
Are commonplace in life.
That a widowed mother left alone
Does not have time or strength
To reassure and nurture one small child
While taking on sole burden of raising all her brood.
I did not know it then
But now do certainly believe
That some angelic presence led the way
Into the sanctum of a nearby woods.
Within that soothing, peaceful space,
I could be alone yet not alone,
There, through Nature's healing ...