23 February 1996
"And when he had said these words, he wept,
and the multitude bare record of it,
and he took their little children, one by one, and blessed them,
and prayed unto the Father for them." (3 Nephi 17:21)
Remember those days when we, too, were little children.
When the world was simple, yet so amazing;
when we really understood life and played so hard so as not to miss it.
Fences, it seems to me, were there solely to be climbed;
beds, to jump on; shoes, to protect my feet from rocks.
Back then the world was so close --
if I climbed a small hill and stood on my tip toes
I could almost see the other side.
Yes, those were the beautiful days when everything meant what it looked like.
When words were still new, but more important was how hard you smiled --
or how many tears leaked out before you tightened your eyeballs.
And yes, it was hard then; you had to be brave and courageous,
get up when you fell down and run inside to clean the blood off.
As I remember, Mama was the queen --
if she hugged me and said it would be all right then I could smile,
cause she would be the one to know.
For a moment, I thought those days were gone.
But now within my heart, I am convinced that they are back again;
though the fences might be bigger, and the courage harder to find.
But when I search in the depths of my soul I find the same undaunted hope --
and it stands up straight, looks me in the eyes, and asks why I've forgotten for so long.
I bow my head and close my eyes --
then standing on my tiptoes and straining to see, I can start to make out this new world,
which was so quietly hidden behind the small door inside my heart.
Copyright © 1996 Charles Fry
forgotten memories of being burned at the stake sweet dreams sharing hand-in-hand the stranger hidden courtyards holding You princess happy day loneliness fragile, handle with care my small trip to the cement factory dedication this record is for You the day that I cried Last night I woke up under my bed. my silver Dancing shoes Man my heart tears. the three things strait jackeght like you abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz Fire cooks me Princess Alexandra: A Little Story cats up cat twice sweet rain water little children my heart How blind I am in wooden glasses. I know she's crying cause it stains her voice, Dear Family, I pound at my heart We run away from the ice cream truck purple sunset J. Elephant so i walk up to you with this the Soul queen so, you say that i do not speak window dear sweet old Ordinary i am a Harp