Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there.  I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond's glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush,
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there.  I did not die.
I live on in the hearts, you see,
Of those who remember and love me.

                                   ~ Anne Law

Pretty blue eyes,
Two piggy tails,
A sweet little voice,
Sassy pink nails.

Feeling so "yucky".
Even rocking's no fun.
All she wants is water
But she can have none.

I hope for her birthday
A heart can be found
So this sweet little princess
Can once more run around!

Love, your nurse friend,  Lisa Friesen, R.N.

Life here on Earth is just a test,
A trial, a journey of happiness.
Hers was short, but all that was needed,
To pass above the rest.
Her mark is here, she achieved her goal,
She touched our hearts forever;
But now she's in a better place
With God and angels in heaven.
She's going up and down the slide,
She's swinging high in the air;
She's running into God's arms
And is glad she's finally there.
We will miss her smiling face
And all the love she shared
In her three years upon this earth;
That's all the Lord could bear.
She is enjoying life again
And so we must endure.
And when our trial on earth is done,
We'll hold her once again,
And share God's home and happiness
For all eternity.

With Love, Maranda Nelson
 

A tree-lined river in a narrow channel flows toward
lofty mountains far in the distance.
High above a vast mantle of threatening cloud moves,
coldly dark and full of power, pushed along by
soundless winds with much resistance.
A hard rain falls all around in the murk and gloom
of this moment unlike any other, while a chill
breeze caresses the mud-engorged ground, seeming to
make it recoil and shiver.
A time and scene such as these certainly give cause
to slow on this path that we walk here near the
trees on the bank of this river.
But we know we must not, not for a moment to lessen
our pace or to stop, as this is the only way to reach
what we most desire.
For we journey through a valley of shadow so broad,
one careful step and then another, carrying the weight
of many pains small and great that can burn just
like a fire.

Yet a fleeting ribbon of clear heaven steals through
the ponderous gray overhead, to give golden views
of light and warmth from the sun.a river in the air, a
mirror to this earthbound one.
So we send our hope and faith upward like a vision in
a dream, an unspoken prayer carried aloft and away
to travel .mongst wonders on this sky-borne stream.
Far away, leaving behind this twilight landscape of
sorrow and strife, to overreach, to transcend, the
great mountains. summit edge sharp as a knife.
To now gradually descend like a gentle rain
from glowing clouds, and come to rest upon a
wondrous view.
To behold the green shrubs, bright flowers, and
pleasant paths.and peeking through tender leaves
a pair of shining eyes of blue.of a garden with an
empty tomb.

        For Elaine By Mark Coulson