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In Precious Memory of Tristan A. Castellanos Born October 6, 1995 Passed the test January 9, 1996 He (Walks with Angels) He will never see his sister grown to womanhood He will never get to re-decorate her room or harass her dates He will never know what it's like to play with or hold his own children Or his nephews or nieces He walks with Angels He watched a football game when he was three days old But he will never smell the grass of a playing field or hit the game winner or score the winning touchdown He will never roll in a birdie putt or grace a box of Wheaties He will never hear the adulation or the wrath of the crowd He talks to Angels He will never say "Mom" or "Dad" or "Sis" He can never say "I love you" But we know all the same He smiled each morning to greet us daily He cannot be held but his presence is all around us He touched us all, he was never taken for granted He is an Angel He will never fully understand the love of his parents nor feel their anguish He will never now they tried to protect him from unseen dangers He will never know how they felt the helplessness and guilt He passed the test Paradise beckoned He will never endure the heartache of lost love or break a heart himself He can never be replaced, he is irreplaceable We lost part of our future He can never be held in our arms again He is lost to our touch He walks with Angels He was perfection of this world God retrieved His perfect gift He will watch over us eternally, his sister's special Angel He will meet us there when our journey ends Our family will be whole again...only then He will show us how to Walk with Angels. She Hears A Baby's Cry Startled from a dreamless sleep, Darkness all around, In the darkened house of night Listening for the sound, She hears a baby's cry. Only by a mother's ears will this sound be heard. Only in a mother's heart will the joy be stirred. She rises to the beckoning cry That may be troublesome in another's eye. To this mother it brings delight To be awakened in the night. She hears a baby's cry. Stumbling down a moonlit hall Where pictures hang upon the wall, A baby girl alight with smiles, Loved by all, this little child, She hears a baby's cry. Chilled by the air of night, Heedless of her ongoing plight, She continues on a mother's search Of a child in the night, She hears a baby's cry. In a room once filled with light, Now darkened, yet not by night, In her mind nothing's changed. In her heart it feels the same. She hears a baby's cry. In the corner a rocking chair Beckons her to join it there, Reminding her of times gone by And baby's favorite lull-a-by. She hears a baby's cry. She rocks and sings "hush-a-by." Till she no longer hears the cry. As the sunrise chases away the night, Darkness fills this mother's heart. For instead of beholding her baby's charms, She sits staring at empty arms. She hears a mother's cry. By Wendy Sundin In loving memory of Krystin Dawn
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