Analysis of Emma

Heaven sent a little girl,
With skin of cream,
And hair of curl.
Soon tiny feet began to walk,
Her ruby lips began to talk.
I watched her grow through toddler times,
Through Barney shows and nursery rhymes.
We grinned and giggled, danced and played,
And I praised God, for she he made.
But then one morning when she rose,
I saw her tiny little toes,
Refused to let her dance once more,
Or move her feet upon the floor.
My little girl was deathly ill,
There was no magic healing pill.
I lost my hope and courage too.
There was nothing that I could do.
The doctors said as time went by,
She'd loose abilities, then die.
But my sweet girl was brave and bold,
She didn't care what she was told.
Her body fails more each day,
But she can laugh and she can pray!
And though she cannot dance on feet,
She boogies to another beat.
Compassion, empathy and grace,
Is what she wears upon her face.
Despite her pain, she smiles bright,
And those in darkness see her light.
Someday I pray my girl can see,
How much her joy has strengthened me.