By: David Varella
Dear little baby Victor,
Smaller than your brother,
Prayed for by so many,
Loved by Father and Mother.
Never will I see your smile,
Hold your hand on earth,
Or hold you gently all the while
The days after your birth.
No longer will your body grow,
Never will take a breath,
But son, I hope you’ll always know
Our love’s stronger than death.
Our loss of you is quite a trial,
A crucible for sure,
Our love is purified by fire,
Our longing for you stirs.
Your Mother loves you selflessly,
To you her life she’d give
If she had only had the chance –
‘Change heart-urn for the crib.
The heart-broke look in Mother’s eyes
As she held your body,
I’ll ne’er forget the saddest sighs
As she cried, “My baby!”
Your Father’s heart looked Heavenward,
Held Mother in my arms –
And tearful, helpless, in sorrow,
My soul filled with alarm.
We love you tender, love you strong,
Son, you are sorely missed;
Through days arid or full of song,
You in my heart I’ll kiss.
I baptized you, but think you were gone
Before the water poured;
So I pass you now to God’s mercy
And worry now no more.
My son, I know we’ll meet again
If you but pray with all your heart
For your Mother and me.
We hope this is the last sadness
Of our suff’ring Year of Job:
Sev’n years of famine we’ve endured,
For sev’n of feast we hope.