Just Hold My Hand

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“Do you want me to lay with you?”

Even in the dark I could see her stubborn blond hair gathered in wisps around her face and her little girl body curled into a warm grey blanket snuggled tightly beside her favourite stuffed animal.

“No, just hold my hand.”

I reached for her hand and held it in mine, reminding myself that it was good for her to not need me beside her, she needed her independence; the ability to go . . .

Read more from Just Hold My Hand at Multitasking Mumma