On Saturday night I crept quietly into my "baby" girl's room with the purpose of retrieving laundry. I love sweet little sleeping faces, freed from the chaos of the day. But it was the little pink suitcase, overflowing at the end of her bed, that squeezed at my heart. She had packed it herself, during a time when she should have been asleep, ready for Grandma's house the next day. And inside were pieces of her beloved blanket, and the tattered Matilda Jane dress that causes us daily grief because she refuses to where anything else, even when it's dirty. ( It's in the wash now). And the girl loves slip ons. When she gets new shoes she wants us to wash them when she comes back inside so she can where them indoors. And her newest pair are here, curled up beside her as she sleeps. Talk about melt my heart.