* * The poetry of Ruth T. Whittlesey * *

A Mother's Prayer

I thank Thee, God, for tiny arms

And little hands that cling,

For soft, warm head that nestles close,

And all the joy they bring,

For little tears to kiss away,

And little bruises too,

For all the little jags to mend

And little chores to do.

Let me be worhty of Thy trust,

Oh God: their faith in me.

Let me grow nearer Thee with them,

Oh, guide their steps to Thee.

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