Walking to the bedroom, I saw her kneel to pray; as I got closer, this is what I heard her say. <br /> "Dearest Mother Mary, I hope you understand, This littlest of angels, with a crayon in my hand. <br /> It's hard to write the message, but it's etched deep in my heart. Why did my parents leave me, why did they have to part? <br /> It seemed they were so happy, the day that I came home. Everyone would hold me, I was never left alone. <br /> All those things have changed now; it seems I'm in the way. No one wants to hold me, and no one wants to play. <br /> Before I get much older, there is something you can do. Find someone to love me, or take me home with you." <br /> I stood there stunned, with tears in my eyes. I cried out in silence as I looked up to the skies. <br /> Dearest Mother Mary, I hope you understand, This littlest of angels with a crayon in its hand.<br /><br />Carlos P. Martinez<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/littlest-angel-2/
