By Ron Miles – Contributor
Children who are overlooked lead overlooked lives.
Their toils to be seen through our eyes.
Why do some forget that time is short.
Each day brings us near the end.
The End of the time of changing diapers,
The End of reading them books to put them to sleep.
The End of tucking them in at night?
Does this not cause you to fright?
For soon school dawns upon them all.
And soon for a friend, they want to call.
And where? Where will we be?
When they scrape their knee?
Why do we forget that we were young, too,
I know I’m not the only one who was a “terrible two.”
Wishing for tomorrow, some parents do.
Thinking the children will grow up, too.
But alas, when they are grown,
We long for that day when a diaper we changed.
Teaching to ride a bicycle, to read, to swim.
To wonder why we didn’t do more with them.
A father’s voice is what they long to hear,
When they’ve done wrong and come to a tear.
I know that I will be the one to lend them an ear.
With me, my children shall know no fear.
The nourishment they need is love,
Packed with God’s mercies from above,
Not with riches gained by time lost.
Not with games that should be tossed.
My poem, though long in tune,
Sings true to them who know it well,
Who wish their parents had been there more.
Instead of working to get you, get you more.
This, my prayer to God shall be,
Let me love them as I love Thee.
Let me remember those things I hold dear,
And Lord, let my children see my tears.
Let them, Lord, become thine own.
And love you when they are grown.
Let me make few mistakes.
For them, Lord, I give Thanks.