Yesterday my best friend and I shared some poems with a dear girl who is close to both of us. She had been looking forward to hearing poems from one of her favorite books, ‘When We Were Very Young.’ I looked over the book with my best friend that afternoon, and when I got to the poem called ‘Vespers,’ I couldn’t stop myself crying just a bit. The emotion struck me so strongly and so quickly that it overwhelmed me. Reading that poem, I could almost *feel* Andy there with me.
We read that poem to him every night, his father and I. I even read poems from that collection to him when I was pregnant. He could hear, after all, and I wanted something that would soothe him to sleep. Reading that poem, I remembered those sacred moments we mothers share with our children as they drift to sleep. I remembered burying my nose in his hair and smelling that sweet baby scent, hearing the little sigh that let me know he was actually sleeping, and feeling his weight as I tucked him in his little Pooh bed with the green gingham blanket. I would give anything just to hug him one more time.
I want to share that poem here, in hopes that someone’s surviving child might enjoy hearing it read to them before bed, and to comfort the hearts of those of us missing the little ones who left before us.
Vespers
Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.
God bless Mummy. I know that’s right.
Wasn’t it fun in the bath tonight?
The cold’s so cold, and the hot’s so hot.
Oh! God bless Daddy– I quite forgot.
If I open my fingers a little bit more,
I can see Nanny’s dressing-gown on the door.
It’s a beautiful blue, but it hasn’t a hood.
Oh! God bless Nanny and make her good.
Mine has a hood, and I lie in bed,
And pull the hood right over my head,
And I shut my eyes, and I curl up small,
And nobody knows I’m there at all.
Oh! Thank you, God, for a lovely day.
And what was the other I had to say?
I said, ‘Bless Daddy,’ so who can it be?
Oh! Now I remember. God Bless Me.
Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hand little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.
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From, Milne, A. A. When We Were Very Young. New York, Dutton Children’s Books; Penguin Putman, Inc., 1952
ISBN: 0-525-44445-9
