~Pauline S. Roach
Baby fingers cling to mine
As we climb the tall front stair;
Small folk find the steps too steep
Unless Mommie's hand is there.
Just the slightest touch will do -
Baby voices cry with glee
As each hard-won height is gained,
"Here us coming, Mommie! See!"
How many paths their feet must climb,
Burning rock and sliding sand -
Dear God, let them never reach
In vain to find their Mommie's hand.
Strengthen my feet in the way
That leads them safely up to Thee;
Let me, going on before,
Hear them still, "We're coming! See!"
I pray that even now and through the years as Joanna grows and more children come along, that all of them will know I am always there for them, to help them, to lead them, and just to hold them. I want them to know that they can always come to me. May the Lord help me lead them in His path!