The other morning I was half asleep when I heard the patter of little feet down the hall. The sun was on the rise and so was three-year-old Garry James. The last thing I wanted was to get out of bed. I’d just gotten the baby back asleep and was hoping Garry would sleep longer so I could rest too. No such luck. Soon Garry was hollering for his milk and a movie.

I crawled out of bed reminding myself that someday those little feet would grow up and walk away. Gratefulness guards the heart so

The sound of little feet is one of my favorite things.