She watches her,
she guards in her sleep.
She wakes her up,
"Good morning," she whispers.
She watches over her progress,
She watches her fail.
She helps her rise,
"It's alright," she whispers again.
At night when the child is tearing up,
The Angel stays close by her side,
Brushing the tears from weary eyes,
"You rest," she whispered and smiled.
When the child of God is doubting,
The Angel bends close to listen.
"You're doing great," she loudly whispers,
And the child's heart is safe beneath her wings.
When the Angel plays her harp,
And hums an Angelic song,
She reaches the child's tender heart
To whisper, "You are strong."
And just as the child begins to fall asleep,
She presses a kiss upon her brow,
Safe under her quiet wings,
And finally, whispers,
"Trust Him. You are loved, child of God."
