She curls her body into mine, as tightly pressed as she can get. She is all flannel nightie and coconut shampoo and girl. They fight for space with Mom in the middle, each flanking me and claiming a side. He wraps one tiny arm around my belly and grins. It’s his favorite spot, tucked into my squish. He rests his chin on my arm and looks up at me through thick brown lashes. The kind girls dream of having and this charmer has gotten used to batting at me for “just 5 more minutes, Mama.” I let the …
a student of grace, seeking wonder, becoming fluent in the language of hope
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