We were kneeling down for family prayer this morning when Andrew accidentally crushed my hand with his knee. These things happen: it's an occupational hazard of praying.
It hurt quite badly and I instinctively cradled my hand and said, "Ouch!" Actually, I said ouch several times while whimpering. It hurt quite badly.
"I'm so sorry!" Andrew gushed, while trying to get a look at my crippled hand.
Rachel was playing a few feet away. She hasn't quite clued in about getting ready for prayer yet. She just thinks it's funny that we all close our eyes. Otherwise she ignores us when we ask her to get ready.
But she's a sensitive girl and noticed that Mommy wasn't okay so she grabbed her favorite blankey, crawled into my lap, and lifted the blankey up in the air to rub my cheek with it.
"I don't know if this will work," I'm sure she was thinking, "But Mommy always does it to me and it make me happy so we'll give it a go!"
And it did make me happy. What a sweet girl I have!