A vision of a little girl in glasses with eyes just like her mother was so vivid I could almost reach out and touch her. She’d run across a huge back yard in fall wearing this. I ran my fingers over the soft yarn. Something her grandmother had made. I had a piece of my mom, and I’d be able to share that with her. The little girl with her mom’s eyes and loving spirit would sit on my lap on the back steps and I’d read her one of her favorite books, The Tale of The Flopsy Bunnies.
