How his brown eyes do glisten as he gazes,
intrigued at the candle—alone—on his cake!
Knowing not he passed his first milestone,
then what baby thoughts dominate?
He looks quite transfixed in his place,
With a smile on his angelic face. Oh! he is a darling,
most cunning, most precious, just one to adore.
he enriches our lives to the core.
Though his language is vague he calls for attention,
sits in his highchair and raps with his spoon. Yes, he is demanding,
when stuck with his walker
he hollers for someone to come very soon.
He delights in his toys, is amazed at his top
which he spins at high speed, then when all is
over a nap he may need and so toddles off with his cuddily bear.
‘Twas a happy day, now one year away, that this little son came under
our protection that we might know the joy of having a boy to arouse such
a wealth of affection. Still we think of his mother and e’en his grandmother
for as babies they also did rate a tiny pink candle, a cute lighted
candle that twinkled—alone—on a cake!
This was the first great-grandchild,
Curtis Clyde Carpenter, son of Patricia Erickson, April 2nd 1953.
The thrill of motherhood I’ve known,
Grandchildren, two, are mine to see,
And now my heart leaps up a bit
When Curtis Clyde smiles up at me.
Through joy and through adversity
Our neighbors always hear our call.
How like a bride ln happiness
I let a teardrop softly fall.
As blessings rich we all can find
We never are quite at a loss.
The beads are told, each one by one
Until at last I reach the Cross.
a pioneer woman