Wednesday, April 1, 2015

May Child


It was a cold morning in May.


They had a fire going in the fireplace.






Unusual for May this far down in the South to be so chilly.





She almost starved to death as a newborn.






Innocent, shy and unassuming, she wasn’t aware of her beauty.






She was so like her father, old fashioned, in every wonderful way.






She sang with the purity of an angel.











Jan






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