My Choice

I am a nurse, pediatrics was my choice. There were days of smiles, days of tears. I was their advocate, I was their voice. I was there to calm their fears. But what my career turned out to be, was something that I didn't suspect. The one given the most was me. It was a gift that I didn't expect. There were ones who you never forget. Some who took part of your heart. But there were also times of regret, when the loss of one, tore you apart. Very ill children are wise beyond their years. They know something that we don't. They reach out to dry their parents tears, To cry for themselves, they won't. They have dignity and such grace. Paired with the innocence of a child. Their eyes are old in their young face, a face appearing so meek and mild. Getting them ready for bed, Included medication to run through the night. "Tuck me in, kiss me goodnight," they said. They knew they would be ill before daylight. When one moves on to wherever they go, It divides you into two. One to do the job that you know, One to cry and grieve, as you always do. In the years that I gave to my profession my profession gave the most to me. "My kids", stay with me like a procession, surrounded by heavenly light, miraculous to see.