There is a time to anticipate the baby’s coming;
a time to consult a doctor;
a time to plan and diet and exercise’
a time to gather a layette.

There is a time to wonder at the ways of God,
knowing that this is the destiny for which I was crafted;
a time to pray that God will teach me how to train this child which I bear;
a time to prepare myself that I might nurture his sould--

But soon there comes the time for birth,
FOR BABIES WON’T WAIT.

There is a time for night feedings, and colic and formulas;
There is a time for rocking and a time for walking the floor;
a time for patience and self-sacrifice;
a time to show him that his new world is a world of love and goodness and
dependabilty.
There is a time to ponder what he is -- not a pet nore a toy,
but a person,
an individual
a soul made in God’s image.

There is a time to consider my stewardship--
I cannot possess him; he is not mine’
I have been chosen to care for him,
to love him,
to enjoy him,
to nurture him,
and to answer to God.
I resolve to do my best for him
FOR BABIES WON’T WAIT.

There is a time to hold him close and tell him
“The Sweetest Story Ever Told”;
a time to show him God in earth and sky and flower;
to teach him wonder and reverence.

There is a time to leave the dishes in the sink
and swing him in the park;
to run a race;
to draw a picutre;
to read a story;
to look at God’s handiwork in the beautiful sunsets
and to give the song of the raindrops on the roof;
and to give him happy comradeship.

There is a time to point the way;
to teach his infant lips to pray;
to teach his infant lips to pray;
to love God’s Day,
FOR CHIDREN WON’T WAIT.

There is a time to sing instead of grumble,
to smile instead of frown;
to kiss away the tears and
laugh at broken dishes and fingerprints on the wall --
a time to share with him my best in attitudes;
a love of life,
a love for God,
a love for family.

There is a time to answer -- ALL his questions -- because there may come
a time when he will not want my answers.

There is a time to teach him to obey --
to put his toys away.
There is a time to teach him the beauty of duty,
the habit of Bible study,
the joy of worship at home,
the peace of prayer --
FOR CHILDREN WON’T WAIT.

There is a time to watch him bravely go to school,
to miss him under foot,
and to know that other minds
have his attention,
but that I will be there
to answer his call when he comes home
and eagerly tells me the story of his day.

There is a time to teach him independence,
responsibility,
self-reliance;
to be firm but friendly,
to discipline him with love, for soon -- SO SOON -- there will be
a time to untie the apron strings and let him go --
FOR CHILDREN WON’T WAIT.

There will be a time when there will be no slamming of doors,
no toys on the floor,
no fingerprints on the wallpaper.
THEN may I look back with joy and not regret.

There will be a time to concentrate on service OUTSIDE my home...
... on visiting the sick,
the bereaved,
the discouraged,
the untaught,
and to give myself “to the least of these”.

There will be a time to look back
and to know that these years of motherhood were NOT wasted.


I pray there will be a time to see him
an upright and honest man,
loving God and serving all.

God, give me wisdome to see TODAY as MY day with my children,
knowing that there is no unimportant momentin their lives.

May I know that NO OTHER CAREER IS SO PRECIOUS;
no other work is so rewarding,
no other task so urgent.
May I not defer it nore neglect it,
but by Thy Spirit accept it gladly, joyously,
and by They grace realize that
THE TIME IS SHORT and
MY TIME IS NOW, for
CHILDREN WON’T WAIT.

~Gladys Ada Fink, 1948

01/01/1948

Author's Note: This was written by my grandmother, and found in a collection of her papers shortly after her death. At the time she wrote this she had two young children, with another on the way. She was living on a farm in Illinois, raising them and caring for her home. She was a godly woman, a mother, wife, sister, grandmother, great-grandmother and friend to many. She has now gone home to be with her Father. Sorry for the repost, I accidentally deleted this and it's comments when I was trying to revise my library.

Posted on 08/30/2003
Copyright © 2024 Cathlyn Cartier