A Different Child
A poem by Pandora Diane Waldron
In memory of her daughter, Madoka Marietta Rosalie
People notice there's a special glow around you.
You grow surrounded by love, never doubting you are wanted;
Just look at the pride and joy in your mother and father's eyes.
And if sometimes between the smiles,
There's a trace of tears,
One day you'll understand...
You'll understand there was once another child,
A different child who was in their hopes and dreams.
That child will never outgrow her baby clothes.
That child will never keep them up at night.
In fact, that child will never be any trouble at all,
Except sometimes, in a silent moment,
When mother and father miss so much that different child.
May hope and love wrap you warmly,
And may you learn the lesson forever --
How infinitely precious, how infinitely fragile this life on earth is.
One day, as a young woman you may see
Another mother's tears or another father's silent grief.
Then you, and you alone, will understand and offer the greatest comfort.
When all hope seems lost,
You will tell them with great compassion,
"I know how you feel. I'm only here because my parents tried again."
I Love You Big Sister
How do you love a person
Who never got to be,
Or try again to see a face
You never got to see?
How do you mourn the death of one
Who never got to live,
When there's nothing to feel good about
And nothing to forgive?
I love you, big sister.
You're a person of the wind,
Free to be the memory
Of all that might have been.
I love you, big sister,
My companion of the night,
Wandering through my lonely hours,
Beautiful and bright.
What does it mean to die before
You ever can be born,
To live the lovely night of life
And never see the dawn?
Ah! My big sister,
You lived like anyone!
Life's a burst of joy and pain,
And then, like yours, it's done.
I love you, big sister,
Just as if you'd lived for years.
No more, no less, I think of you,
The angel of my tears.