Last year, when Mickey was hurt, I bought Chicken Soup for Uplifting the Soul. In it there is a chapter for children. I found this prayer and I sat and typed it one day for a thread here on JWD. Please read it, but warning, have a kleenex. Children are so precious, those who are lucky enough to have good and normal lives and those whose lives are hell and those who fall at some point in between.
A Prayer for Children
by
Ina J. Hughs
We pray for children
Who give us sticky kisses,
Who hop on rocks and chase butterflies,
Who stomp in puddles and ruin their math workbooks,
Who can never find their shoes.
And we pray for those
Who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
Who've never squeaked across the floor in new sneakers,
Who've never "counted potatoes,"
Who are born in places we wouldn't be caught dead,
Who never go to the circus,
Who live in an X-rated world.
We pray for children
Who bring us fistfuls of dandelions and sing off key
Who have goldfish funerals, build card table forts
Who slurp their cereal on purpose
Who put gum in their hair, put sugar in their milk
Who spit toothepaste all over the sink
Who hug us for no reason, who bless us each night.
And we pray for those
Who never get dessert,
Who watch their parents watch them die,
Who have no safe blanket to drag behind,
Who can't find any bread to steal,
Who don't have any rooms to clean up,
Whose pictures aren't on anybody's dresser,
Whose monsters are real.
We pray for those
Who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
Who throw tantrums in the grocery store
And pick at their food,
Who like ghost stories,
Who shove dirty clothes under the bed
And never rinse out the tub,
Who get quarters from the tooth fairy,
Who don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
Who squirm in church and scream on the phone,
Whose tears we sometimes laugh at
And whose smiles can make us cry.
And we pray for those
Whose nightmares come in the daytime,
Who will eat anything,
Who have never seen a dentist,
Who aren't spoiled by anybody,
Who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
Who live and move, but have no being.
We pray for children
Who want to be carried,
And for those who must.
For those we never give up on,
And for those who don't have a chance.
For those we smother,
And for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind
enough to offer.
