Mother's Mother, Connie Ruffolo (to the left), was born on January 1, 1920, so in her honour we will bring in the new year. Happy 2008 everyone. We hope it only brings the best for each of you. 
THE BEAUTFIFUL BABY by Barbara Renouf
“Would you like to hold my baby,” the young mother asked.
‘Oh, yes,” the old one replied.
“She is my treasure,” the mother replied.
“I know, I remember,” was the quiet sigh.
Wrapped in a blanket of white, tucked in
to keep the child from chill.
“What a lovely gift, God has fashioned just for you,” said
The Grandmother as she softly whispered.
“I know just the way the baby should be held
Close to the heart and my arm turned inward to cradle her head.”
The thoughts of the three were not shared by audible words
Or with the generations from the past?
Love brought the beautiful baby from heaven.
The eyes of the two looked down in wonder.
Perhaps the eyes of others, no longer visible
Too, long to hold the cherished child.
With hair of downy hue and brow so finely drawn,
A whisper of a tiny nose
And a mouth of palest rose.
Her hands are dainty size.
Hold her gently, hold her close
For this smallest of human kind
Will soon want down to see her world,
And few will the times that
protective arms may gather her close.
A beautiful baby is a delicate way to
Begin one’s mortal life.
And for a brief moment in time,
Reverently, Mother, Grandmother
And baby child are one.
Barbara Renouf
Santa Clara, Utah
December 2007
THE BEAUTFIFUL BABY by Barbara Renouf
“Would you like to hold my baby,” the young mother asked.
‘Oh, yes,” the old one replied.
“She is my treasure,” the mother replied.
“I know, I remember,” was the quiet sigh.
Wrapped in a blanket of white, tucked in
to keep the child from chill.
“What a lovely gift, God has fashioned just for you,” said
The Grandmother as she softly whispered.
“I know just the way the baby should be held
Close to the heart and my arm turned inward to cradle her head.”
The thoughts of the three were not shared by audible words
Or with the generations from the past?
Love brought the beautiful baby from heaven.
The eyes of the two looked down in wonder.
Perhaps the eyes of others, no longer visible
Too, long to hold the cherished child.
With hair of downy hue and brow so finely drawn,
A whisper of a tiny nose
And a mouth of palest rose.
Her hands are dainty size.
Hold her gently, hold her close
For this smallest of human kind
Will soon want down to see her world,
And few will the times that
protective arms may gather her close.
A beautiful baby is a delicate way to
Begin one’s mortal life.
And for a brief moment in time,
Reverently, Mother, Grandmother
And baby child are one.
Barbara Renouf
Santa Clara, Utah
December 2007
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