I am in my bedroom.
Alexis is in her bedroom, just down the hall.
She is sitting at her little table - the pink and white one - sitting in one of the two chairs.
She is drawing.
The morning light is shining in through her blinds and spraying it's lovely rays on the floor all the way into the hallway.
The house is quiet and all I can hear is ...
Her singing.
Singing ... as she often does when she is alone.
Singing ... because she is happy.
Singing ... because it comes easily and naturally.
Sometimes ... you just have to stop and be aware of their special-ness.
Sometimes ... if I stop and listen ...
I hear ...
I see ...
She shows me ...
In her simple song ...
With her sweet angel voice ...
With the innocence of her life ...
God