Child...

It is cruel, just plain cruel, and if there is a God, I sometimes wonder if he is laughing...

As I left the oncology ward, I came across a bed half covered with toys. A young lady was leaning over the bed, whispering softly, "Mum is here with you, my little baby... Mum is here with you..." I walked past the bed, and everything seemed to slow as I took a look at the bed, at the mother, and at the child.

It wasn't a child... It was a baby, wrapped around with a pink blanket so tightly in a bundle that I could not tell if it was a boy or a girl or how big the baby was.

But it did not matter, what mattered was that it was a baby. A baby, a newborn who was just granted the gift of life, and yet is fighting for it, is suffering for it, is probably going to lose it soon. Harrowing...

The mother's voice softly whispered again, "Don't be afraid, my little baby, mum is here with you..."
My heart ached so, and I blinked hard to blink away the tears. I choked...

Her voice was soft gently, so very soft and gentle, yet what must she be feeling deep down inside...? What fear, what worry, what sorrow and grief to see her child in this state, lying in that bed, being in that hospital? Next to a rattle was a bottle filled with yellowish chemicals that flowed into the tiny body. Next to a puppet was a device with all sorts of tick tubing coming out of it and connected to the baby like the frightening tentacles of an octopus.

"Fare well, little child..." I whispered lowly in my mind, "Fare well, and may you be free from pain and suffering..." My hand unconsciously lifted as I waved silently at the bed with a sick baby and the mother leaning over and whispering...