“Grandpa, I can draw a horse! Can you?”

I grab a paper and pencil. Ten seconds later, my horse:

She laughs, and teases me over my silly horse. “I can draw a way better horse.”

Sixty seconds later, her horse:

I agree with her; her horse is much better than mine. She beams.

We’re called to dinner. She runs off, then stops, turns around, runs back, and writes the “M” in a balloon.

It stands for Michelle.

A moment etched into eternity.