tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60624315523647237792011-04-21T19:05:08.725-07:00Brandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13063480603638287027noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6062431552364723779.post-82818444595552292042007-04-24T19:19:00.000-07:002007-04-24T19:28:53.882-07:00<a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_E7UZK6kJV5k/Ri68cs6fMlI/AAAAAAAAABY/xeOygW5Ms2s/s1600-h/102_1932.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057186632862478930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_E7UZK6kJV5k/Ri68cs6fMlI/AAAAAAAAABY/xeOygW5Ms2s/s320/102_1932.JPG" border="0" /></a> I remember a story I ready about a little girl desperately wanting to be alone with the newborn baby and their parents refusing over and over til finally, one day, they let her. But they were extra careful to leave the door open. They listened in, and heard the little girl ask the new baby, "Do you remember God, cause I'm starting to forget...." That was such a cute story I decided to ask Jack if he remembered God. He thought about it for a moment, then very seriously said, "Yes". I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">asked</span> him what He was like.<br /><div><div>Jack's reply?</div><br /><div>"Flowers." and he smiles.</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6062431552364723779-8281844459555229204?l=jackloveselmo.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Brandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13063480603638287027noreply@blogger.com9