A Mother's Plea for Her Child

Dedicated to Byron, Eydie and Dana

Be gentle with my child, Doctor--

This burden my body gives

Into your hands.

In that little scrap of flannel

Lies every hope and dream

I ever had. My child.

Haste to his aid, Doctor.

I've watched him for hours now

As fever rages.

Give him that liquid gold--

One teaspoon four times daily

My child must live.

Be kind to my child, Teacher.

He's tried so hard to please you.

Can't you smile? Encourage him?

One frown from you can turn

Sunny days into ashes.

Please love my child.

Be kind to my teenager, Teacher

He wants so much your acceptance--

Though not, perhaps, so much

As to try his wings.

Each gland explodes fright'ning drives;

Be patient with my child.

I know how difficult he's become.

Once-docile eyes of childhood

Narrow with suspicion.

In spite of the armor he wraps 'round,

There're chinks that permit hurts.

He's so vulnerable, my child.

Deal with my child, Lord.

Keep the Hound of Heaven at his heels--

Not baying, but softly guarding.

When he's tired of running

He'll turn to You. My child.

Virginia Curl Benson

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