As I stood surveying Mom's belongings, I felt a bit overwhelmed with the many treasures of my sweet mama. She had recently passed away and now remained the tremendous task of determining what we kept. Brother Dave had already done a lot of leg work, but as we sorted through a pile of papers, I noticed an unmarked envelope. I took a moment to open it and look inside. When I saw the contents, my heart quickened and tears rushed my eyes.

My mind snapped back to nearly thirty years ago. After our daughter Amy's stillbirth, while at work, a co-worker asked me to come to her office. When I got there, she directed me to the closet where a tattered slick piece of yellowed paper hung. "I think this was meant for you to have," she said as she removed it from the wall and handed it to me. On it was printed a poem called "The Loan". In the months of grief that followed, the poem gave me great comfort as I read and reread it and then tucked it into Amy's treasure box along with her hospital blanket and bracelet. Several months after Amy’s stillbirth, our son Michael died of SIDS. We intended to adopt him, but when he was a month old, his birth mother changed her mind and reclaimed him. Five months later, we received word that he too had died. We were devastated. A friend sent me a copy of his funeral notice. On the inside cover was printed “The Loan”, the same poem my friend had given me from the office closet.

Several decades after our children’s passing, my dear friend Susan called. Her grandson had just passed away. She wondered if I still had the poem and asked if I would send it to her. I offered her a copy, but she requested the original. I wrestled with giving it away. It felt like it belonged to my children, but that was selfish. Susan had been part of our journey back then, even hosting a baby shower for Michael. She had been a source of comfort in our days of grief that followed. The fact Susan still remembered the yellowed poem meant it was time to pass it along. So, I took a copy and relinquished the original, hoping it would help her in her season of grief, just like it had for me in mine.

Now, sorting through Mom's treasures, inside this envelope was another original of "The Loan", printed on the same slick paper, only this one wasn't tattered nor yellowed. Had my brother opened that envelope, he’d have had no idea the value. For me, it would become one of my greatest treasures from my mother’s belongings. It was a reminder to be grateful for the gift of the loan of another of God’s children, my mother.

The Loan

"I'll lend you for a little time a child of mine," God said;

"For you to love while he lives

and mourn for when he's dead.

It may be six or seven years, or twenty-two or three.

But will you, 'till I call him back, take care of him for me?

He'll bring his charms to gladden you,

and shall his stay be brief.

You'll have his lovely memories as solace for your grief.

I cannot promise he will stay, since all from earth return.

But there are lessons taught down there

I want this child to learn.

I've looked the wide world over in search of teachers true.

And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes,

I have selected you.

How will you give him all your love,

not think the labor vain?

Nor hate me when I come to take him back again?

I fancied that I heard them say: "Dear Lord, Thy will be done!" For all the joy Thy child shall bring,

the risk of grief we'll run.

We'll shelter him with tenderness.

We'll love him while we may.

And for all the happiness we've known,

forever grateful stay.

But shall the angels call him much sooner than we've planned.

We'll brave the bitter grief that comes,

and surely understand."

Author Unknown.