The bassinets in line before the window…
Little packages of hope for the human race,
Through the glass the reflection of love..
The ever-hopeful cycle of man taking place.
Every little face beloved by eyes that see
The babe, the child, the promise of the young.
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker..
Each of these children a precious song to be sung.
To watchful eyes the daily scene unfolds,
To the nurse the proud privilege of the day.
To care for new life with love and faith..
And safely send each one on its life’s way.
Barbara Gorelick-It was my privilege to work in the nursery for over 20 yrs.
The best job I ever loved