I can't remember which Christmas this little guy found his way into my stocking. He's missing a few pompoms and I'm not sure if he was holding a lantern or a Carol book, but I think he was holding something. My mom always managed to find something unique for each of us that would sit peering out of the top of our stocking, or end up hanging above our stocking on the edge of the staircase. I can't help but smile when I look at this face, with such chubby cheeks and eyes all squinched up with such a light in them. For now, he is standing in a little basket between the kitchen and dining room, daring us not to be joy-full as we celebrate this season of Advent. I introduced my grandbaby girl to him the other day and she reached out and gently touched his cheek and said "hi" in her sweet, tiny voice reserved for babies. We are full of joy as she has had a few days of feeling mostly herself again after a long gloomy November.
l-o-v-e this post ... & it was with great JOY that I read the last two sentences in particular ; )
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