Dear Emily,
Colorful paper in piles on the floor. Sweaters, socks,
and jammies in happy heaps nearby. Books stacked
in towers of promise. Tears of joy and sorrow linger.
Outside my kitchen window, the snowman leans
precariously for his lost glove. The snow now a sweet
memory. As are lost grandparents who, of course, are
not really lost but waiting in heavenly realms.
Angels singing, earth rejoicing.
Love,
Lea
