Sitting in silence after listening to part of Brennan Manning’s book ABBA’s CHILD, I am called to write. My fingers are numb, they hurt from this morning’s walk with Bailey. My mind flashes back to toeless, house less people in the hospital and my fingers ache all the more. I touched his toes without gloves and asked about his situation. My fingers are warm now and I have nothing more to say.
Street Address
City, State, Zip
Phone Number
Kandyce King Art
Kandyce King