When I was born everyone craved holding me in his or her arms. Indeed, heaven is for little ones. Everyone would try and scare away a sad expression on my face. A lullaby sweet and soft could pierce my eardrum. Toys were brought and though my eyes were little, Dad would try his best to watch the stars with me.

Now I have grown up, that feeling of love echoes. Someone is still reminding me how my mother’s touch feels. Soul comfort when you sit on Mum’s lap, when her arms engulf like a chick protecting her laid eggs. Ooooh, a gentle breeze passing over my skin. The stars we would once watch with Dad, now I see them clearly when my eyes catch her starry eyes. The beaming moonlight of her face that always accompanies rains of smiles upon my face.

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