Love forgave, kindness smiled, and hope grew a precious memory.

The Gift

There are gifts that we give
To the ones that we love
That leave rare and indelible marks;
Little glimpses of something
That words can't explain,
Scripted in thoughts
That weave their refrain,
Playing time and again in our hearts;

There are moments we touch,
Without touching at all,
When we meet in our memory room;
When a smile meets a smile,
There is healing that happens;
We're reminded that hope
Lies within every challenge,
Within every gift still to come;

There are beautiful treasures
To gather and share,
Memories to make every day;
As we clear a place for them,
Let their roots grow,
Their buds are just waiting
For someone to say,
"Can your happy memories come out and play?"
Edie Batstone