Sunday, June 21, 2015

Tiny Hands, Big Heart.


Her walk is like a dance as she bounces with each step across the polished wooden floor.
Her curly blonde pony tail rocks back and forth like a grandfather clock that never stops ticking.
She smiles all day, her cheeks round and soft like cotton balls.

The harder she laughs, the more her eyes squint.
And then she follows up with a slight head tilt to the side as if to say, 
Can you believe how silly this is?

Her talking is more like singing, words rolling off her tongue with ease and ambition.
So many words. 
So many songs.
So many giggles.

She plays telephone and runs her fingers across every single object in the house.
She picks things up and slams them down on the floor with a loud BANG! eruption, making every adult’s heart stop just for a moment. 
Eyes turn, fingers point, heads nod slowly left and right. “No, Eva! Don’t touch that.

She giggles mischievously and floats to the next room.
A cloud of noise is this child’s constant companion.
Lots and lots of joyful noise.
Eva could probably be her own traveling band with the amount of noise her little hands and feet produce.

She slows us down.
She keeps us curious.
She reminds us to play and love and be brave.

This is Eva.
This is hope.




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