by angie / Angie Dey

God saw you were very tired.
God wanted you to be pain free,
so He whispered very softly: “Come my pretty;
come my pretty girlie; come to my home with me.”

So you left us to go to heaven.
We had no choice but to let you go,
and now our hearts are filled with sadness,
until we meet you, our pretty girlie, some day above.

Now the sky, at night, is a lot brighter,
because you are a brilliant star.
You are up there watching over all of us,
our pretty girlie; our pretty girlie BABAR!
The Dey Family