When God calls little children to dwell with him above We mortals sometimes question the wisdom of his love For no heartache compares with the death of a small child Who does so much to make our world seem wonderful and mild Perhaps God tires of calling the aged to his fold So he picks a little rosebud before it can grow old God knows how much we need them and so he takes a few to make the land of heaven more beautiful to view Believing this is difficult still somehow we must try The saddest word mankind knows will always be goodbye So when a little child departs we who are left behind must realise God loves children Angels are just so hard to find. Author Unknown