Mary's Son
T here you were a tiny baby in your mother's arms,
H olding her finger as she kept you from harm,
E nduring pain and tears, hardship and fears.
S he looked down at your little mouth, nose, and eyes,
O nly knowing she should hold you and quiet your cries.
N o one can imagine how she must have felt, to have you, her son, the Son, lying on her lap.
By Judy Parker
December 16, 2003
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