When God calls

This was a poem I found on a funeral website for a young man who died. I'm not sure if the person who posted it wrote it or if it was copied down from somewhere else. It's a little kooky, but I like some of the thoughts.*

When God calls our children to dwell with Him above,
We mortals sometimes the question the wisdom of His love.
For no heartache compares with,
the death of one so young, our son.
Who does so much to make our world so wonderful and fun.
Perhaps God tires of calling the aged to His fold.
So he picks a rosebud before it can grow old.
God knows how much we need them,
and so He takes but a few.
To make the land of heaven
more beautiful to view.
Believing this is difficult
still somehow we must try.
The saddest word mankind knows will always be, "Goodbye".
So when our young son departs, we who are left behind,
must realize God loves our children.
Angels are hard to find!

*I changed some words to make them rhyme/sound better. Originally, the word "mild" was in the 6th line, which didn't rhyme. I decided to change it to "fun" to rhyme with "son" and when I typed it, it typed in all caps accidentally.

I was just writing down more things to record on the blog, and one of them was how elated I was when I was driving around on Sunday afternoon running some errands for Hope, and TWO different FUN songs came on the radio. Those always make me think of you. Thank you! Love you!