It was an hour or so after the birth, as we all relaxed in the quiet peaceful space that settles on a room as a mother rests and her baby takes his fill from her breast. I moved close to her and put my hand on her arm, and whispered, “God bless you, my dear.” I don’t know if she heard my hushed prayer. Then my hand rested on the small head covered with black hair, still glistening with moisture from the birth, and I said “God bless you, little one.”
I know no greater prayer. I have no deeper wish. If God blesses, what more could that one want?
“God bless you, my dear, mother of this child.
You have laboured and you have given birth in pain that went deeper than you could have imagined.
Your dark red lifeblood that sustained this little one
has spilled with the waters and meconium and your bowel’s emptying onto the white sheets.
The fears and pain left you cowering, having nowhere to hide, as the small child prepared to leave your womb.
What did you see as he struggled to take breath and become a separate living soul?
As you rest and begin to recover,
your breasts are now giving, and continuing to give.
Your baby is taking, and growing.”
Joy Johnston 2006
“Take care that you do not despise one of these little ones; for, I tell you, in heaven their angels continually see the face of my Father in heaven.” Matthew 18:10