She is not yet two and she wiped her mama’s tears.
She was not even an year old when she first sloppily kissed them away.
She is normally a scaredy little cat but becomes mama’s little knight, ready to make war with anyone whom she deems threatening to her mama.
She is a tiny angel, with soft dark wavy hair, big-button eyes, a sweet pout and with a mind of her own.
She taught me that the bond with my mother was forged when I was a pocket-sized edition of my present self.
God bless her right down to her little pink toes!
1 comment:
Naz u are not just the writer of words, but purveyors of emotions keep it up
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