Poem: There used to be so many Of my finger prints to see On furniture and walls and things From sticky, grubby me. But if you stop and think awhile You'll see I'm growing fast These little moments disappear You can't bring back the past. So here is a small reminder To keep, not throw away Of tiny hands and how they looked To make you smile someday. This is the hand you used to hold when I was only 2 years old. -unknown
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Thanks for spreading positivity!
September 16, 2006