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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Family >> ID #790568 |
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It is a game to him,
this ornament, a wooden star spinning on our four-foot take-down decorated Christmas tree. He taps with tips of hesitant, going-on-two toddler fingers, smiling... enticed by the haze of motion misting into winking lights. I am his mother, told that he should certainly be speaking. My child is smiling still; his laughter clear communication. It is a gift to me, this Son, His spinning star shining over holy places in Bethlehem and bright within our home.
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