CHILD ANGELS

Oh, there are happy angels That go on missions sweet; They have no wings to bear them, Just little human feet. When I had grown aweary, And all my faith was dim, ’Twas one of them that led me, And brought me back to Him. When ’tween you and a loved one There lay a widening breach, And you were coldly drifting Beyond each other’s reach, A child’s hand ’twas that bridged it— A child’s soft, rosy palm Held both your souls united, And life grew sweet and calm. When sorrows closely gathered, And heart and head were bowed, The blue eyes of a baby Made rifts in pain’s dark cloud. Oh, happy, earth-born angels, Who go on missions sweet, If ye had wings to bear you, Instead of little feet, I fear me ye would use them, Altho’ ye love us much, To soar to Him who tells us His “Kingdom is of such.”