In Memory Of J.C. Horne A child was questioning her mother On A dark and cloudy day, Trying to get an answer In her insistent childish way. Mama, why did God call Daddy? I Just don't understand I guess he had a job for him Because Daddy is a special man. But why would he need A policeman? There are no mean people up there. Why would he need my Daddy? In a place that have no problems or cares. Later the child looked up from her play The questions had finally stopped, Mama, now I know why God called Daddy, Because he needed A traffic Cop. by Virginia Horne Walker