She lay in bed, staring in wonder at the cover of her first book in print, and with a sleepy, soft prayer to heaven and tears in her eyes, she said, “I hope you are proud of me now, Mom.”
When her heavy eyelids closed, she was still in that place between being awake and dreaming, and she heard a soft, distant whispering in her ear say, “I always was.”
Finally Proud,
I love it! How tender and sweet! I believe things like this really do happen. At least they happen for me!
Terasee, this happened to me the other day. That was where I got the story.