I saw this little poem/story on a website that I visit quite frequently and it really hit me and thought I'd share it with my friends/family...
HOW PREEMIE MOMS ARE CHOSEN
Did you ever wonder how the mothers of
premature babies are chosen? Somehow, I visualize God hovering over Earth,
selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As
he observes, he instructs his angels to take notes in a giant ledger. "Beth
Armstrong, son. Patron Saint, Matthew. Marjorie Forrest, daughter. Patron Saint,
Celia. Carrie Rutledge, twins. Patron Saint ... give her Gerard. He's used to
profanity." Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles. "Give her a
preemie."
The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so
happy."
"Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a premature baby a mother
who knows no laughter? That would be cruel."
"But does she have the
patience?" asks the angel.
"I don't want her to have too much patience,
or she'll drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment
wear off, she'll handle it. I watched her today. She has that sense of self and
independence so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I'm going
to give her has a world of its own. She has to make it live in her world, and
that's not going to be easy."
"But Lord, I don't think she even believes
in you."
God smiles. "No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect. She
has just the right amount of selfishness."
The angel gasps,
"Selfishness?! Is that a virtue?"
God nods. "If she can't separate
herself from the child occasionally, she will never survive. Yes, here is a
woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn't know it yet,
but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a spoken word. She will
never consider a step ordinary. When her child says 'mama' for the first time,
she will be witness to a miracle and know it. I will permit her to see clearly
the things I see – ignorance, cruelty, prejudice – and allow her to rise above
them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day
of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my
side."
"And what about her Patron Saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised
in the air. God smiles.
"A mirror will suffice."
