After the kids were
I ripped open the package—sure enough, a signed copy of The Pioneer Woman Cooks—autographed to ME! AND the aforementioned photograph! The blood drained from my face, my heart swelled, and I was overwhelmed. I wept and wept and wept. My husband walked in and saw the book, the letter, and me. He rested his hands on my shoulders.
“I’m a horrible person, who doesn’t deserve the wonderfulness that surrounds me,” I said.
“No, you’re a wonderful person, who too often bears the horribleness of this world,” he said.
After that I went to my sweet daughter’s room where she was still crying. I swept her up in my arms, sat down in the rocker, and began to sing love songs to Jesus. Her precious eyes closed, and within minutes she was soundly, peacefully sleeping.
Thank you, my friend, you made my grinch heart grow so big tonight & restored so much hurt that had cut it down to pieces. God bless you, and your family…and that cowboy. Merry Christmas.