Blue flowers
I bumped into a stranger as he passed by.
"Oh, ...excuse me, please" was my reply.
He said, "Please excuse me too;
I wasn't even watching for you."
Oh, we were polite -- this stranger and I.
We went on our way and we said our good-bye.
But at home a different story is told,
How we treat our loved ones, young and old.
Later that day, cooking the evening meal,
My daughter stood beside me very still.
When I turned, I nearly knocked her down.
"Move out of the way!" I said with a frown.
She walked away, her little heart broken.
I didn't realize how harshly I'd spoken.
Later that night wide awake in my bed,
God's still, small voice came to me and said,
"While dealing with a stranger, common courtesy
you use, But the children you love, you seem to abuse!
Look upon the kitchen floor,
You'll find some flowers there by the door.
Those are the flowers she brought for you,
She picked them herself -- pink, yellow and blue.
She stood quietly not to spoil the surprise,
And you never saw the tears in her eyes."
By this time, I felt very small
And now my tears began to fall.
I quietly went and knelt by her bed;
"Wake up, sweetheart," I whispered and said.
"Are these the flowers you picked for me?"
She smiled, "I found'em, out by the tree.
I picked'em because they're pretty like you.
I knew that you'd like them -- especially the blue."
I said, "Daughter, I'm sorry how I acted to you today;
I shouldn't have yelled at you that way."
She hugged me and said "Mommy, that's okay.
You know I love you anyway."
I said, Daughter, I love you too!
And I do like the flowers -- especially the blue."
THE TEDDY BEAR
Teddy, I've been bad again,
My Mommy told me so;
I'm not quite sure what I did wrong,
But I thought that you might know.
When I woke up this morning,
I knew that she was mad;
'Cause she was crying awful hard,
And yelling at my dad.
I tried my best to be real good,
And do just what she said;
I cleaned my room all by myself,
I even made my bed.
But I spilled milk on my good shirt,
When she yelled at me to hurry;
And I guess she didn't hear me,
When I told her I was sorry.
'Cause she hit me awful hard, you see,
And called me funny names;
And told me I was really bad,
And I should be ashamed!
When I said, "I love you, Mommy,"
I guess she didn't understand;
'Cause she yelled at me to shut my mouth
Or I'd get smacked again.
So I came up here to talk to you,
Please tell me what to do;
'Cause I really love my Mommy,
And I know she loves me, too.
And I don't think my Mommy means,
To hit me quite so hard;
I guess sometimes, grown-ups forget
How really big they are!
So Teddy, I wish you were real,
And you weren't just a bear;
Then you could help me find a way
To tell Mommies everywhere.
To please try hard to understand.
How sad it makes us feel;
'Cause the outside pain soon goes away,
But the inside never heals!
And if we could make them listen,
Maybe then they'd understand;
So other children just like me,
Wouldn't have to hurt again.
But for now, I guess I'll hold you tight,
And pretend the pain's not there;
I know you'd never hurt me,
So Goodnight, Teddy Bear!
by: ~Cindy Pike Dunning ~