A little face to kiss.

Oh Lord, I do not ask for much, eternal beauty, or youth, or such. Just give me a little hand to hold and I’ll forget that I’m growing old. I do not ask for cloudless skies, a life that’s free from tears and sighs. Just give me a little face to kiss, and anxious moments will turn to bliss. For what is there, really, that means so much as little hands that reach and touch, as little eyes that search and see only the best in fragile me? So let me grow more loving and wise by looking at life through their wide eyes. For through these little ones, you have given this grateful grandmother a glimpse of Heaven. ~ Barbara Burrows

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