Tiny hands patting my face, hugging my neck, kissing my lips.
What is it about those little, soft, stroking fingers that make everything better?
How is it that I’m being comforted by a little bald headed girl?
If her eyes could speak, they’d be saying "Mommy, don’t be sad. Me and Daddy are here."
"In the multitude of my thoughts within me thy comforts delight my soul." Psalm 94:19