Sometimes even tiny things can change the course of life forever.
But are they truly just tiny things?
There has been something missing in my family for a long time. Each year continues to pass with a part of our puzzle not complete. The hole is not fixable. At least not in this life. It’s something that won’t be filled for a very long time. Something that changed the path and left us with a lifetime of “what ifs”. For myself it has always been… What if I had a sister? What if we went to college together? What if we grew up and lived in the same neighborhood? What if my children had another aunt? What if Dawn was still here? What if she hadn’t died?
My sister died.
She was only a month old. One of those tiny things that makes a huge impact on the lives around her. I barely remember her. Not really at all. Sometimes I think that I do. Other times I think it’s just memories belonging to someone else. Growing up I often wondered about her. What my life would be like if she was still in it. I watched my father get misty-eyed when looking upon a tiny baby. I saw the pain in his eyes. I worried that my future children would bring the same far off look. Sometimes I do still see it but mostly I see happiness in his eyes when looking upon his grandchildren. Love has a way of helping with the pain. It has a way of healing old wounds. Life may never be the same again but it can continue. The wound may be healed but there will always be a scar.
My parents are strong. They came out of the darkness and have been an amazing example to many. Especially to me. Our faith tells us that they will be given the opportunity to raise her one day. It is but a small moment in the eternities. I know that I will see her again and I know that my own children have already met her. This knowledge is everything to us.
And this is the part in the story where YOU come in.
Along the way my parents were also given support and love from others. It helped to get them through the rough times. My mother was given the following poem by a sweet lady at church. Her husband had written it for her when they lost their own child. She shared it with my mother in hopes that it would help in some way. I know that it did because my mother has held on to it for over 35 years. Over the years she has asked that I give it to friends of mine who are feeling the loss of a child. It’s something that makes them kindred to her. A club that no one ever really wants to be part of, but one that ties mothers together. I know that this tiny thing has done a world of good for others along the way. This poem has helped to close the open wound. It has helped to create the scar.
It is my wish that I can find the giver of this poem. Please help me find them, will you? Share this in the hopes that they will be found. I want so much to reunite my parents with the man and woman who shared part of their life to help another. They are out there somewhere and I want to tell them, “Thank you.” Our puzzle did not change, a piece of it is still missing, but the shape has changed. For the better.
Little things, tiny things,
Some you cannot see
But sometimes even tiny things
Are soon great things to be.
A tiny little flower seed
Will bloom and none knows why
A tiny little acorn can grow
To reach the sky.
A tiny little spark of faith
Can grow within a heart
To someday bind two people
So that they will never part.
A tiny seed, a gift from God
Inside your body grows
Then plucked away, returned to Heaven
Why nobody knows.
Perhaps this tiny little life
Was simply just a match,
The lighting force behind that spark
That caused our faith to hatch.
And someday if we nurse that spark
And allow our faith to grow,
We can raise that tiny one
That we both love so.