I couldn't shake the memory either of my dear, sweet, and oh-so-intuitive Mady who, at just shy of three years old, had made a declaration to me with all the soothing surety of a Sunday morning preacher. I had been resting on the couch a short time before leaving for vacation, crying and lamenting over the news that our initial efforts had been in vain.

She came upstairs from her playroom and asked me, "Mommy, why are you crying? Is it about a baby sister or brother?" That wasn't so unusual because, even at their tender young age, I'm sure both Mady and Cara had picked up on the fact that both Mommy and Daddy had discussions involving babies quite often. But then she gently and lovingly caressed my leg with her cottony smooth toddler hand and crooned, "It'll be soon. It'll be soon."

Chills literally scurried up to the top of my head. It was as if God had sent a mighty angel in pint-sized pajamas to whisper reassurance when I needed it the most. I grasped that encouragement, tucked it deep in my heart, and stood on it firmly with all the confidence of an Olympic diver on the highest and scariest platform, about to take the plunge.

© 2008 by Katie Irene Gosselin and Beth Ann Carson.


Next Story