Broken Glass

I once broke a jar and put the remains
In a trash bag and set it by the door,
Ready to take out.
In the five minutes of final food prep,
I stumbled into the bag
And wound up with seven stitches for the gash.

But my phobia of broken glass began long before that.

So I can do nothing but thank God
That when the glass broke on the carpet of the playroom
With such a muted crack that no adult noticed,
That the damage was limited to a total of
Two small cuts on two small fingers of two small children.

for I say unto you, That in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in heaven.