Sigrid sent me a few more celebration pictures. Only God’s love is equal to momma’s.
“The clocks were striking midnight and the rooms were very still as a figure glided quietly from bed to bed, smoothing a coverlit here, settling a pillow there, and pausing to look long and tenderly at each unconscious face, to kiss each with lips that mutely blessed, and to pray the fervent prayers which only mothers utter." — Louisa May Alcott
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