Is there anything in the world more awe-inspiring than the birth of a child? If so, I don’t know what it is. To see a newborn child function, especially if it is your child or grandchild – instilled by God with the spirit and soul of an individual human being – that should be testimony enough for any person to know and believe that there is a God.
Any person who desires to see and know the value that God attaches to the birth of every child should read Psalm 127:3-5 and Psalm 139:13-16 – read them! These passages clearly state that every single baby is a gift from God. Even so, millions of babies have been aborted in our nation – many of them even after they were born. What a tragedy!
As children grow and we witness the beauty and innocence of their character and their dreams, we can understand why Jesus said, “Of such is the kingdom of God.” So, what is a boy? And what is a girl? Some very perceptive lines written by Alan Beck answer these two questions in the following way:
“A boy is Truth with dirt on his face, Beauty with a cut on his finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in his hair, and Hope of the future with a frog in his pocket…. (And) when you come home at night with only the shattered pieces of your hopes and dreams, he can mend them like new with two magic words, ‘Hi, Dad!’
“A girl is Innocence playing in the mud, Beauty standing on its head, and Motherhood dragging her doll by the foot….But when your dreams tumble down and the world is a mess…she can make you a king (or queen) when she climbs on your knee and whispers, ‘I love you best of all.’”
Poet Andrew Gillies (1870-1942) described the value and innocence of every child in the following words:
“Last night my little boy confessed to me
Some childish wrong;
And kneeling at my knee,
He prayed with tears –
‘Dear God, make me a man
Like Daddy – wise and strong;
I know you can.’
Then while he slept
I knelt beside his bed,
Confessed my sins,
And prayed with low-bowed head—
‘O God, make me a child
Like my child here—
Pure, guileless,
Trusting Thee with faith sincere.’”
The Paper Pulpit 
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