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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required (This verse is painted for my Loving Daughter P Suzanna Christy on her 8th birthday) It was the day she began to move out, She’d been in the cradle of her mother’s womb Some seven years before silently in her dreams, And her dreams! Who knows? But He knows. Her mother, yea, yet to be a mother then! Then in her travail, yet rejoicing in God’s Gift, With her friend and neighbors close by she was wriggling. Her father, yea, yet to be a father then! Then in his journey, anxious, yet praying all the way, None but the Father in Christ is beside him. She reaches the eighth milestone of life, How she hath reached is by His Mercy. I remember the day of entry into the world, She made a cry within and it was not heard unto us, We could not know why she had cried within, But we know for she had prayed within, And now we’ve learnt that her first cry would be to Him. Her mother’s friend took her in his arms, And showered thousand kisses on her tiny forehead, And it is he always the God-sent providence unto them. Her mother rose from her anesthetic sleep, And her every breath, it’s the fact, pronounced THANKS unto HIM. She longed for her God’s Gift and took her in her arms of love. I watched her imprinting kisses on the silky cheeks. Every one wept and there were tears of joy, I collected those tears in the deep of my heart. She hath reached the eighth milestone of life: She flutters as the dancing star in the sky, Like the tiny trout in the running brook she plays, Sweet like the ripe apple ‘midst the orchard, ‘cross the horizons of joy and laughter she traverses, Dressed in the Blessings from Above, She looks purple with floating frilled skirt, She wears the smiles of her mother, Filled with friendly wishes from her school mates, She walks amidst the song of her little blooms. I can’t hold her joy she experiences, And so her mother shares it with her And too with her for she hath carried my prayer in her womb. She grows with the Heavenly Grace, And does proclaim the Glory of Heaven in her life. Now she’s a little plant to grow more flowers, And every flower shall be the message of His Mercy
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