Dear Mama

by Arvil Jones

She was walking home from the Senior Prom, she had just turned eighteen,

The night had been so wonderful with all the friends she had seen;

She decided to take a shortcut to her home not far away,

When a total stranger blocked her path, there in the alleyway.

He quickly overpowered her, and threw her on the ground,

He gripped her tightly by her throat, so she could not make a sound;

She was brutally raped by the stranger, and she never knew his name,

And she walked the rest of the way to her home in horror and in shame.

Two months of terror slowly passed, and she desperately wanted to know,

Then her greatest fear was realized, she had now begun to show;

She never told her parents about that horrible night,

She simply didn’t want them to know about her awful plight.

She found an abortion clinic, and was welcomed with open arms,

The doctor said “I can fix your problem, and there will be no harm;”

She asked no further questions, and the gruesome procedure began,

A child was taken from her womb, and tossed into a garbage can.

And now she began to wonder what course her life would take,

As terrible images plagued her mind, as each night she lay awake;

She tried to pretend that nothing was wrong, and everything was good,

But she cried each time she saw a child, playing in the neighborhood.

She returned to the clinic where her child was aborted, and asked the doctor for pills,

She complained of having panic attacks, and Oh, such horrible chills;

The doctor smiled and gave her the pills, saying, “These will help you to sleep,”

But the pills didn’t stop the bitter tears, as she began to weep.

The horrors that swept her soul each night, no mortal tongue could tell,

As she wept and trembled each evening, as slowly the darkness fell;

She could find no peace or contentment, no matter how hard she tried,

And the pills no longer helped her, as she lay awake and cried.

As images of a little girl kept running through her head,

And then one night she woke up screaming, and knelt beside her bed;

She cried, “Oh Lord, if you are there, please make these nightmares cease,”

If you are the God of love and mercy, can you give me any peace?”

The tears that flowed from her swollen eyes now came in a steady stream,

Then finally she fell asleep, and there came the strangest dream;

The postman smiled as he gently placed a letter in her hand,

He said, “This letter came today, from some exotic land,”

As she opened the letter, her heart was touched, and suddenly she smiled,

For it was plain that every word had been written by a child;

“Dear Mama,” she began to read, “I’m Lori, your little girl,

And I’m up here in Heaven now, and My, what a beautiful world!”

Jesus has answered all my questions, He’s the King up here you know,

And I’m not hurting anymore Mama, like I did down there below;

When I arrived I saw so many children with a Mom and Dad,

And how my heart was longing for the Mama I never had.

And one day I asked Jesus if He had a Mama for me,

And He led me to Heaven’s balcony, and He let me look down and see;

I’ve watched you Mama, from day to day, as you pretended everything was alright;

But then I saw the tears in your eyes, while you cried and screamed at night.

I asked the Lord why you and the doctor didn’t want me to live;

But He asked me if I could find enough love in my heart to forgive.

Dear Mama, I love you with all my heart, and I pray someday we will meet;

And Jesus told me to tell you about that little church down the street.

Where Grandma and Grandpa go each Sunday, kneeling down to pray,

Across the street from the clinic where that doctor threw me away.

Yes, Dear Mama, I felt the pain, but I had no voice to scream;

And that’s why Jesus is letting me appear to you in a dream,

Dear Mama, in a few more hours, when once again you awake;

To face the dawn of another day, you have a choice to make.

I know your heart is troubled Mama, over all the mistakes of the past;

But Jesus says that He can give you eternal joy that will last,

And now Dear Mama, I must go, and bow at my Master’s feet;

And I pray someday by the grace of God, that you and I will meet.

Here in the bliss of Paradise where Jesus reigns Supreme;

Where there are no abortion clinics, and the children never scream,

Dear Mama, Jesus loves you, and He feels your horrible pain;

But if you want to see me Mama, you must be born again.

I love you Mama,

Lori

© 2012 Arvil Jones

This poem is posted with permission of the author, Arvil Jones.