Mississippi Mud Pie

Oldest boy came and got me tonight to tell me T was crying in his bed.  I went in and heard him sobbing.  As I knelt down next to him I asked what it was that made him start crying.  “Every time I close my eyes, I see my Granny,” he said.  His soft quiet sobs into his pillow were almost silent, but his body rose and fell with each cry. “Oh sweet baby,” I said, “what can I do?”  He rubbed his sweet little eyes and looked up at me.  “Will you make me a Mississippi Mud Pie?” he asked.  “Absolutely!” I said and I rubbed his back and sat with him until he fell asleep.  

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