Wednesday, November 10, 2010

The Finest Age

I took this pic the other day and thought, "Oh, if I could just freeze her at this age! When everything is magical and she wants to be just like mommy."

I came across this quote and just loved it!

When she was only nine months old,
And plump and round and pink of cheek,
A joy to tickle and to hold,
Before she'd even learned to speak,
Her gentle mother used to say:
"It is too bad that she must grow.
If I could only have my way
Her baby ways we'd always know."

And then the year was turned, and she
Began to toddle round the floor
And name the things that she could see
And soil the dresses that she wore.
Then many a night the mother whispered low:
"Our baby now is such a pearl,
I hate to think that she must grow"
But on she went and sweeter grew,

And then her mother wished she
could keep her always two,
For that's the finest age of all.
She thought the same thing at three,
And four. She sighs to think that
She cannot always be the
Youngster with the laughing eyes.

Oh, little girl, my wish is not
Always to keep you little.
Each night I stand beside your bed
And think of what the years may hold;
And looking down on you I pray
That when we've lost our baby small,
The mother of our woman will say
"This is the finest age of all." -author unknown

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