A broken doll was sent to me
From heaven up above
A broken doll to have and hold
A broken doll to love
My joy was turned to sadness
My life I thought was done
I'd hoped the doll I would receive
Would be a perfect one.
But God does send us varied things
He even sent His Son
Recall the passage in His prayer
Thy will, Father, be done.
God could have sent a perfect doll
But our broken one was blessed
It strengthened my faith and love
I hope I've passed my test.
It's strange how that which seemed so sad
Should bring such joy and laughter
I thank God for this priceless gift
My broken doll, My Daughter.
(This poem was borrowed from a friend and changed a little by me.)
I first saw this poem in 1978 in Cedar Rapids, Iowa and thought the mother of the little girl I took care of wrote it. But I am not sure. I wish I knew. The little girl I cared for and loved was name Annie Heineman. She was a pretty little blond with blue eyes and smile that could take your breath away. She was in a facility for the severe and profoundly handicapped. She was truly a little doll.
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