40 of 52 Portraits



Today I’ll hold my babies hand and walk beneath the sky; we’ll take our time and wander, and watch the robin fly.

We’ll stop along the way to smell a rose thats sweet, and leave some footprints in the dust made by tiny feet.

But those tiny feet are growing and those hands are growing too; just yesterday it seems you were so small and new.

The memories tucked deep in my heart are the only things that last. For those tiny hands and feet will grow up much too fast.

Poem written by Patsy Gaut



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