From one parent to another,
O Holy Mother-Father,
I reach out for the strength
to bear a brokenhearted child’s tears
without solutions
without heart splints
without easy fixes
just tissues.
If ever I needed you to be near, it is now,
but not for me.
Bear near to one who is feeling death afresh.
God, I would skim past the passing
of a rodent that died in its sleep
— but oh! how I fear that this death
has stirred the aching waters of other deaths!
Here is a child who knows death’s sting
(no, “sting” is too poetic: death’s stench)
and the very real suckishness of loss.
Be close,
please be close!
I cannot bear her up on my own
though I try.
Flow with fresh and healing waters
to flood this child’s tears
with your blessing
and gentle comfort.
She has not lost hope —
I see it, even through her sadness —
while I am struggling simply for the faith
to tell her a resurrection story
about a hamster
named Vanilla.

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