Dear Mr. Hallmark,
I am writing to you from heaven, and though it must appear, a rather strange idea, I see everything from here. I just popped in to visit, your stores to find a card. A card of love for my mother, as I know this day for her is hard. There must be some mistake I thought, you have every card you could imagine. Except I could not find a card from a child who lives in heaven. She is still a mother too, no matter where I reside. I had to leave, she understands, but oh, the tears she's cried. I thought that if I wrote you, that you would come to know. That though I live in heaven now, I still love my mother so. She talks with me, and dreams with me; we still share laughter too. Memories are our way of speaking now, would you see what you could do? My mother carries me in her heart, her tears she hides from sight. She writes poems to honor me, sometimes far into the night. She plants flowers in my garden, there my living memory dwells. She writes to other grieving parents, trying to ease their pain as well. So you see Mr. Hallmark, though I no longer live on earth, I must find a way, to remind her of all her wondrous worth. She needs to be honored, and remembered too, just as the children of earth will do.
Thank you Mr. Hallmark, I know you'll do your best. I have done all I can do; to you I'll leave the rest. Find a way to tell her, how much she means to me, until I can do it for myself, when she joins me in eternity.
An Angel from Heaven
~author unknown~
I am writing to you from heaven, and though it must appear, a rather strange idea, I see everything from here. I just popped in to visit, your stores to find a card. A card of love for my mother, as I know this day for her is hard. There must be some mistake I thought, you have every card you could imagine. Except I could not find a card from a child who lives in heaven. She is still a mother too, no matter where I reside. I had to leave, she understands, but oh, the tears she's cried. I thought that if I wrote you, that you would come to know. That though I live in heaven now, I still love my mother so. She talks with me, and dreams with me; we still share laughter too. Memories are our way of speaking now, would you see what you could do? My mother carries me in her heart, her tears she hides from sight. She writes poems to honor me, sometimes far into the night. She plants flowers in my garden, there my living memory dwells. She writes to other grieving parents, trying to ease their pain as well. So you see Mr. Hallmark, though I no longer live on earth, I must find a way, to remind her of all her wondrous worth. She needs to be honored, and remembered too, just as the children of earth will do.
Thank you Mr. Hallmark, I know you'll do your best. I have done all I can do; to you I'll leave the rest. Find a way to tell her, how much she means to me, until I can do it for myself, when she joins me in eternity.
An Angel from Heaven
~author unknown~
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