Heaven

So there you are, laying on a bed in a mostly dark room with your ten month old granddaughter. You're on your side, and she's on her back, snuggled in against you. You're propping your head up with one hand, and the other is on her belly. she has your index finger clutched in her tiny hand, and every few seconds she strokes the back of of your hand with her two littlest fingers. She's looking up at you with an expression that tells you that not only does she believe you are responsible for the very oxygen she is breathing, but she is also firmly convinced you are going to keep her safe and happy for all her days.

There will come a day that you let her down; it's impossible not to. No one can stay atop a pedestal the size she has placed you on forever. But that day hasn't come yet, and unlike you, she doesn't know it will.

So as she snuggles in even tighter and shuts her eyes, drifting into dreamland you thank God for giving us the gift of little girls.