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proverbs 22:6
A meadowlark sings from a tall prairie stem, rabbits dart back into trailside grass, and six young geese, webbed feet churning, push across the pond.
“Mama do.”
For at least a year, if my memory can be trusted, that singular refrain punctuated our daughter’s every sentence. “Mama do.”
Once, during a rare visit to our North Carolina home from my family in New York, the precocious toddler’s words even coaxed a laugh from my usually stern father, who wondered aloud how I ever managed to get anything done.