It’s The Little Things That Matter

The smoky smell of wood as it burns in the fireplace
on a cold Winter’s day. The way she burrows deeper the blankets beside me as we snuggle by the fire.

The sound of her high pitched giggling as she attempts
to hide from her father. The way his wheels squeak when searching as if he can't see her curled under a glass table.


The feel of his rough hands clasped tight in mine as we stroll in the park together. The weight of her tiny body when she requests a piggy back when a day of play has taken all she has to give.