As I touched your face so round.
Your soft, mellow breathing
In my arms was the only sound.
You are my child.
The Lord was gracious to me.
You are my precious gift.
The same, I will never be.
Stumbling along
Were those two little feet.
Your grin looked so proud
When your eyes with mine would meet.
You matured in the Lord
And my heart beamed and smiled.
When you put your faith in Jesus
You became such a tender-hearted child.
You are my child
The Lord was gracious to me.
You are my precious gift.
The same, I will never be.
You’re finished with school
And you’re off on your own.
You’ve said your good-byes
Now that you are all grown.
And when I hold my grandbabies
And I have an empty nest,
I will come to grips with the fact that
It’s my season of rest.
Yet you are my child.
My child you will forever be.
You will always be my child
The same I will never be.
Copyright 2001 Brenda Weatherly
