Their answer came without hesitation: The guardian angel must pick the moonshine child up. She must fly with all her might - even though her wings are sore and broken. She must carry that moonbeam right up to her starry home.
"I know the angel can do it, mom," little T-bird's eyes were bright and shining.
She's convinced.
Sniff.
1 comment:
What utter trust and faith!
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