We had in our yard a tree
which lived through one season
and then died,
having no chance
to spread its greenery upon the sky;
(and its dying is both like
the death of a child.
She is an angel, they tell me,
and happier now by far.
Yes, oh yes, but–)
who can tell
how our tree
might have altered the horizon
had it not died.
–Judy Unruh in Lions Beyond the Lattice
Ten years ago today our first baby was born after only 13 weeks of pregnancy. Will and I held our baby and cried, and then went out into the sunset and buried her under a spreading elm tree. We named her Hope. Ten years, and grief still catches me at unexpected moments. How would that tree have altered our horizon? But still, we have hope of a resurrection; of meeting Jesus and our loved ones in that morning of joy.
To the mothers who have lost babies–through miscarriage, stillbirth, failed adoption, or any other way–you are not alone. Jesus is a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. He loves those little ones, too!
5 thoughts on “When the Young Die”
Makes me cry… Thanks for sharing. And hugs to you today
I miss Hope too. I love you!
Oh Rosina, tears! The ache is still so strong… love to you, and sending kisses up to Hope…
After one of my miscarriages, the Father told me, “I lost My Son, too.”
He knows; He’s been there, too.
That is so precious!