by Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
Tuesday, September 16, 2003
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In Andrea’s Closet, stuffed animals live,
a child picks one out, love and comfort they give.
A little girl, just eight years old, begins
the battle for recovering her health, again.
Endless hours of radiation and chemotherapy,
an attempt to suppress Lymphoblastic Leukemia,
needles, procedures, sickness and pain,
hospital beds, and sad balloons on streamers.
‘Andrea was the little girl
who lost her curls,
but never lost her heart.
She could no more play,
and she’s gone today,
reality’s so dam harsh.’
From Andrea’s Closet, a bunny jumps forth,
a child picks it up, and cuddles own worth.
A tiny tot screams with flaming pain,
his body burned, his spirit wanes,
searing agony and dressings changed,
promoting growth of charred off skin masses,
IV drips, drugs and bottomless chasms,
infection sets in and lowers his chances.
‘Tiny lad, beatifically designed,
now wears skin of twisted rind.
Unbeautiful child still screams in his mind,
and searches for his face he’ll never find.’
In Andrea’s Closet, happy meowing erupts,
a child reaches her hands, carefully lifts kitten up.
A girl diagnosed with soft tissue cancer twice,
surgery and chemo stopped it for a while,
under her eye, her vision obscured,
constant reminder of her bane in her mirror,
she bravely continues as her hopes decline,
she’s inwardly scared she’ll never reach nine.
‘She’s tired of hospitals,
of surgery and chemo,
tired of an eye
that only shows sorrow,
tired of being scared
she won’t see tomorrow.’
Out of Andrea’s Closet, a spaceship zooms,
a child reaches high, and flies to the moon.
A boy, born with lungs cloggy and wet,
Cystic Fibrosis drowns kids in their beds,
his every move focused on his body’s war,
medications and treatments he’s come to abhor,
he wants to be normal; he wants to be free,
“Why does God allow this suffering to be?”
‘He aches to run and play,
not be in bed all day. To climb a tree,
or skin a knee, to run and play
in a normal way. To be set free
from fluid debris, to run and play,
he can’t, today.’
In Andrea’s Closet, rainbow dreams still live,
waiting for the need of hope and comfort they give.
Copyright 2003 ©
Andrea's Closet provides toys to children undergoing scary and painful medical treatments and procedures.
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|Reviewed by Jaclynn Huntington
|One of the most touching poems I've ever read. A friend stayed with me awhile who was a nurse and I learned much from her. It takes someone very special to work with these children every day... sometimes watching them move into the end of their journey. Bless them... and bless those precious children who must suffer so. This is a marvelous poem, Erin.
|Reviewed by Maria Lupinacci
I am speechless, all I can say is thanks for sharing this poem, and for the info. you provided for donating toys. I will check the site out!
|Reviewed by Julie Donner Andersen
|WOW, Erin! Ya knocked my sox off with this one. Pass the Kleenex. I wanna go hug my healthy kids. I think you should send this to the org. I'll betcha they'd love it...as I did. Beautiful poem, sad but true. You handled it with care.
|Reviewed by Floria Kelderhouse (Reader)
|This is so sad...Erin such a fantastic write..illness should never meet up with children...but they do...so many suffer....I will visit that site...floria|
|Reviewed by Katy Walsvik
|Graphic.. Real.. HOnest.. you spared us not, Erin.. and you did it exactly right. Let us never look away.. never ignore what these small heroes go through, only to have their life's breath taken away. I cut off all my hair in April when I was told it was just right for making wigs for these lovely little people... My hair will grow.. they may not. You are beauty in all its very best and most beautiful guises, Erin, my dearest. I love your heart. love, katy xox.|
|Reviewed by Ed Matlack
|“Why does God allow this suffering to be?”
Erin, the above sentence said the whole poem for me. Very hard read for me, as I lost my brother when he was 12, many years ago, but still heartbreaking. I think the "Closet" should use this as an advertisement of some sort, it wrenched my heart so, that I found it hard to read, but still a great write as you do always! ED
|Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
|I'm not one to be given over to sentimentality but you did it here. This poem should never have had to be written when there are those in this world who deserve these children's fate but instead laugh in the face of the world's rage and carry on their carnage. Thank you for writting this.|
|Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner
heart-tugging, emotional write
is there anything for adults undergoing scary and painful medical treatments?? i've had more than my share of what doctors say is "uncomfortable" tests...why don't they just say it's going to knock you off the table?
(((HUGS))) and love,
|Reviewed by ya mama (Reader)
|Reviewed by Kate Clifford
|Thank you for making me aware of this organzation. Great write. Touches both the heart and soul.|
|Reviewed by Christine Morell
|This is so touching and beautifully done.These children are very special.
|Reviewed by Retta (Reindeer) Mckenzie
|Oh, This just brought tears to my eyes, the courage and beauty of these little souls, Your poetry touched my heart,excellent, and outstanding,
|Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
|Wonderful tale of compassion and courage! Beautifully done! I truly was moved by this! (((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Texas, Karen Lynn. :)|