I was working on a critical project. With the printer humming and papers shuffling, I hardly noticed my then four-year-old daughter’s gazing eyes. When she asked for something to drink, I told her to wait and I went back to work. After a few minutes and what probably seemed like an eternity to her, she asked again. Annoyed, I let out an audible sigh, went into the kitchen, and poured her some juice.
A couple years earlier, when Gabrielle was just two, I told her that she was important to God and to me. She and her brother were miracle children.
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