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The children’s choir sang at church this morning. I nostalgically recalled when our grown-up kids were little–Their little faces were about the only faces we noticed, because parents are so focused on and captivated by their own.

Anyway, I was scanning the faces of the kids, smiling to myself, kind of sorry because I didn’t have any little kids of my own to adore, when I remembered: “Hey, my little grand-niece (who just moved here a few months ago) should be in this picture.” So I looked and right away, and sure enough, right in the middle of the action, there was eight-year old Ashley. (She’s in the middle of the picture, right behind the girl with blue jeans and sleeveless top.) For the rest of the performance, Ashley became “my little girl” in the choir. I adored and admired her precious and innocent little expressions as she sang along, just like I did for Zach and Ann years ago.

This was sooooooo cute.

Is this a preview of grandparenthood? Sobering, sobering, to think that I’m old enough for all that!

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