Waiting at Heaven's Door

Death beckoned her with outstretched hand
And whispered softly of an unknown land,
But she was not afraid to go
For though the path she did not know
She took death's hand without a fear
For God who safely brought her here
Had promised He would lead the way
Into eternity's bright day.

For none of us need go alone
Into the valley that is unknown,
But, guided by our Father's hand
We journey to the promised land.

She was your special loving Mother
You shared your lives with one another,
And you'll find comfort for your grief
In knowing her death brought sweet relief.
For, now she is free from all suffering and pain
And your great loss became her gain...

You know that her love is with you still
For she loved you in life and always will.
Love like hers can never end
Because it is the perfect blend
Of joy and sorrows, smiles and tears,
That just grew stronger with the years.
Love like hers can never die
For she's taken it with her to the sky...

So think of Mum as living above
No farther away than your undying love,
For now she is happy and free once more
And she's waiting for you at Heaven's door.

(Helen Steiner Rice (1900-1981))

Don't stand at my grave and weep

Don't stand at my grave and weep.
I'm not there, I don't sleep.
I'm thousand winds that blow,
I'm the diamond glints on the snow.
I'm the sunlight on ripened grain,
I'm the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I'm the swift uplifting rush
of quet birds in circled flight.
I'm the stars that shine at night.
Don't stand at my grave and cry,
I'm not there, I didn't die ...

(Mary Frye, 1932)   *****  

Mary Frye wrote this poem in 1932. She had never written poetry before but was moved by the plight of a young German Jewish woman, Margaret Schwarzkopf who was living with her at the time in Baltimore, U.S. She wrote the poem on a brown paper bag. Margaret had been concerned about her mother, who was ill in Germany, but she was warned not to return home because of the growing anti-Semitic unrest. When her mom died she told Mary that she never had the chance to stand by her mother’s grave and shed a tear. This is what encouraged Mary to write the poem.

Source