The tiny hand of my grand daughter. I wonder what mysteries her life line reveals. This picture reminds me of the words to a song. A song about another baby who was born to young parents, in poor times, without any doctors around.
“His mother smiles down as he lies sleeping in the straw.
As weather beaten shepherds stare at him in awe.
And all around the sleeping cattle nod.
Come and see the five little fingers of God.”
This picture is for Macro Monday.
For Macro Monday, you take a close up picture that you think is blog-worthy, post it, and link back to Macro Monday so everyone can visit everyone! (That’s southeren-eese for leave each other comments, if you know what’s good for ya.)