We pray for children
Who
sneak Popsicles before supper,
Who
erase holes in math workbooks,
Who
can never find their shoes.
And we pray for those
Who
stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
Who
can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
Who
never "counted potatoes",
Who
are born in places we wouldn't be caught dead in,
Who
never saw a circus,
Who
live in an x-rated world.
We pray for children
Who
bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
Who
hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money.
And we pray for those
Who
never get dessert,
Who
have no security blanket to drag behind them,
Who
watch their parents watch them die,
Who
can't find any bread to steal,
Who
don't have any rooms to clean up,
Whose
pictures aren't on anybody's dresser,
Whose
monsters are real.
We pray for children
Who
spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
Who
throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
Who
like ghost stories,
Who
shove their dirty clothes under the bed and never rinse out the tub,
Who
get visits from the tooth fairy,
Who
don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
Who
squirm in church or temple and scream into the phone,
Whose
tears we sometimes laugh at,
And
whose smiles can make us cry.
And we pray for those
Whose
nightmares come in the daytime,
Who
will eat anything,
Who
have never seen a dentist,
Who
aren't spoiled by anybody,
Who
go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
Who
live and move, but have no being.
We pray for children
Who
want to be carried
And
for those who must be.
For
those we never give up on and
For
those who never get a second chance.
For
those we smother
And
for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind enough to offer it.
by Ina J. Hughes, included in Marian Wright Edelman's book,
The Measure of Our Success: A Letter to My Children and Yours