A Glanfield helper's poem

When asked to put into words,
Why I wanted to become a children’s nurse,
I found it almost impossible,
It’s an answer you can’t rehearse.

To some it seems quite strange,
A concept they can’t understand,
Why you would want to get up at 5am,
And be someone’s constant helping hand.

But maybe this is because,
The magic just can’t be seen,
The moments shared with the children,
To you, on which they lean.

By taking disabled children to Lourdes,
I found my reason to live,
I went from lost and unknowing,
To wanting to nurse so I could give.

Their eyes, they tell a story,
If you look deep enough you can see,
Their little hands that always fit yours,
Whatever their size may be.

The acceptance of their futures,
And bright outlook they always show,
However dark & short it may seem,
An on looker would never know.

For, however sick & poorly they feel,
They always put up a fight,
Showing you how precious life is,
They push with all their might.

They push to see another day,
To touch the lives of many,
As anyone lucky enough to meet them,
Would lovingly give their last penny.

So, to those who ask me to explain,
Why i want to become a nurse,
I’ve decided to ask them this question,
That, I can rehearse.

Why would you not jump at the honour,
Of being that helping hand,
To a child whose body is so sick,
But whose heart you can understand?

Their time on earth is precious,
So whatever you manage to give,
Is a purpose to your life,
That gives you the reason to live.


© Emma Stenson