Their eyes are still sleepy, their voices groggy, but they pile out of their rooms, scrambling for the afghans grandma crocheted, and for the best, most snuggly corners of the sofa…
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dear heart, you are tender and strong. you are fiery and fickle. you know Truth, and you recall lies. dear heart, you are a treasure, for you hold the Love…
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this weekend we celebrated Thanksgiving with new friends who already feel like family. as we sang praise songs before dinner, i thought of my grandpa and how he always led…