Plea for a sick child

My mother wrote this poem whilst I was a very sick baby in hospital. Read my story to find out what was wrong.

Dear Lord, she is so very small

Please let my child survive

It is not many months at all

Since she has been alive.

I am standing in the Children's Ward

On this frosty Christmas Day

I have come to see my baby

To cuddle her and play.

Her cot is piled with presents

Tiny clothes and furry toys.

There are lots of other parents here

To see their girls and boys.

My babe was born so perfect

How could anything be wrong

Why does she not thrive at all

Grow bonny, bright and strong?

Oh, please don't take her life away

Before she's had a chance

To grow into a little girl

And learn to skip and dance.

Shirley Bates 1960

- - Poem for a sick child


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