Was wit d books today, came across an old jotting of mine and it did touch me big time. I think I got it from a short story titled "Agony of an African Child". Let's see if you also would feel what I felt.
As children bring their broken toys with tears for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams to God because he was my friend
But then, instead of leaving him in peace to work alone
I hung around and tried to help with ways that were my own
At last I snatched them back and cried "how can you be so slow?"
"My child" he said "what could I do?" You never did let go !