Realizing That Moms Are "Real"
This year, I asked my grand-daughter if she learned anything on her first day back at school. She wiggled around, dancing one foot down the porch step, and back up again, distracted because she had other things on her mind. Her eyes danced as they met mine, and I saw her lips press together holding something that her brain wanted to let out. As our eyes looked into each others' soul, I remembered how proud she was to have me as her mystery reader. My Lord, I thought, she's a real person, not just a little girl. Just like me.
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