A poem written for Wally by his mother, Ella Turnbull in 1932
When my heart was dark and empty
And my courage was undone;
When Life’s grand promise, bountiful
Seemed forever to be gone
God sent my son-
Infant hands, so sweet, so fragile,
Like the blossom in the spring;
But so potent was their message
To my heart, it could not sing
For my son filled all with light
In victory won.
Then my way no more was darkened,
For my son filled all with light;
Little fingers, pointing, showed me
Jewels crowning every height
Like stars in Heav’n.
Will he also look for beauty?
Will his heart be true and fine?
Gallant pressing ever upward,
Will he trace the truths sublime,
That God has giv’n?
Brighter than a radiant morning,
Child, your image in my heart;
Grant that never shame shall touch it;
That your life may be apart
From Sorrow dire;
May all loveliness enfold you,
And the truth be e’re your goal;
May you ever cherish beauty-
Keep it burning in your soul
Like living fire.