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I spent this past weekend with my grandson, Max.
I watched him crawl from room to room-stopping
every few inches to investigate a dust bunny, or a
toy a long the way. 
I sat next to him on the floor and played peek a boo
and my heart overflowed with love at every precious giggle-
every incoherent babble.
I fed him lunch-and couldn’t help but giggle myself,as he smashed
sweet potatoes into his hair, bib, and every
crevice of his body.

 

This precious little boy had no idea of the horrifc
tragedy that took place in Paris on Friday.
Nor, did he know how much comfort he provided
to his Nana, whose heart was filled with 
sorrow, and whose mind was filled with so many questions.
 
One question seemed to have no answer.
 
Why?
And so I did the only thing I could do.
I held onto that little boy as much as I could.
I cuddled, I snuggled, and kissed those chubby
cheeks a thousand times.
 
And all the while-
I prayed.
 
I prayed for those who lost their lives- that they would find
peace in the arms of the Lord.
I prayed for the families who lost their loved ones.
That they would find comfort.
And I prayed for all the children
of God. That they will grow up in a world
without fear-without terror.
 
Blessings and hugs,

 

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