by Linda J Schiltt
It's Christmas time, the gifts are wrapped,
And piled beneath the tree,
Yet every year there's an absence,
That is only felt by me.
I prepare the table for the feast
And bow my head in prayer,
I try best to hide my grief,
For the child that is not there.
We raise our glasses for a toast,
To family and to friends,
But all that I am wishing for,
Is to hold you once again.
So amidst the Christmas joy,
Is an emptiness I bear,
An ever present heartache
For the child that is not there
And when I see children laugh
With that twinkle in their eyes,
I cannot help but wonder
If you think of me sometimes
And when the day comes to an end,
No grief can quite compare,
To another Christmas yearning
For the child that is not there.
And piled beneath the tree,
Yet every year there's an absence,
That is only felt by me.
I prepare the table for the feast
And bow my head in prayer,
I try best to hide my grief,
For the child that is not there.
We raise our glasses for a toast,
To family and to friends,
But all that I am wishing for,
Is to hold you once again.
So amidst the Christmas joy,
Is an emptiness I bear,
An ever present heartache
For the child that is not there
And when I see children laugh
With that twinkle in their eyes,
I cannot help but wonder
If you think of me sometimes
And when the day comes to an end,
No grief can quite compare,
To another Christmas yearning
For the child that is not there.
That was absolutely beautiful! You captured the feelings of every loving birthmom in the most beautiful way! I pray for you to have as happy a Christmas as you can, and despite your understandable sadness, do not forget to be thankful for the other blessings you have received in your life.--Melissa
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