The Little Angel

How she’d gotten by my nurse,
I didn’t even have a clue.
She said, ”Sir my mom’s real sick
And she’s bad in need of you.”

I sat unmoved at my desk,
Diplomas on all the walls.
I said, “Have your mom come in;
I no longer make house calls.”

She said, “Mom is way too sick,
I’m afraid she’s going to die.
I know that you can help her.
Won’t you please just come and try?”

I could see she was sincere.
She would not accept a, “No”,
So I grabbed my doctor’s bag,
With a scowl, I said, “Let’s go.”

She guided me to her house,
Took me to her mother’s bed.
I could feel the heat of fever.
Without help she’d soon be dead.

I would not let this child down,
To save her mom would be a fight.
I took her to the ER
And I stayed with her all night.

I’d found a picture of her daughter
I’d brought and placed it by her bed.
Without this sweet and loving child
I knew this mother would be dead.

The first thing on the mother’s mind
I thought would be her little one,
But not one word about her child
Just words of thanks for what I’d done.

I pointed at the photograph.
“Your daughter saved your life, you know.”
She sadly shook her head and said,
“My daughter died three months ago.”


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