Little Krista

Blonde little curls around your sweet face, an image of your mother, everyone says. Tiny little feet, that never slow down, and almost words, I now can understand. Old teddy bear, tucked under your arm, my little sweetie, grand mama's charm. Holding my hand, and leading me around, straight to the toy isle, when we go to town. I know one day, another hand you will hold, but for now, you are only two years old.