What kind of place would heaven be with all its streets of gold,
if all the souls, that dwell up there like yours and mine, were old?
How strange would heaven’s music sound when harps begin to ring,
if children were not gathered ‘round to help the angels sing.
The children that God sends to us are only just a loan,
He knows we need their sunshine to make the house a home.
We need the inspiration of a baby’s blessed smile.
He doesn’t say they’ve come to stay, just lends them for a while.
Sometimes it takes them years to do the work for which they come.
Sometimes in just a month or two our Father calls them home.
I like to think some souls up there bear not one sinful scar.
I love to think of heaven as a place where children are.