Her Heart, My Hand

She comes with a pen.
“Miss James can I draw a heart?”
“Is on your hand good?”

“On my hand?” She nods.
With great intention she draws.
Finished she looks up.

“Mom, Dad, you, and me.
Now I just need my sister.”
Satisfied, she leaves.

It’s good to be loved.
Great to foster connection.
Blessed to bear her heart.