ROOSEVELT’S POV

"Mama, look! I painted a butterfly!"

I turned away from the kitchen stove and looked down.

Standing in front of me was my beautiful, energetic four-and-a-half-year-old girl. She held up a piece of paper covered in messy watercolor paints. She had a smudge of pink paint on her nose, and her smile was so wide her cheeks dimpled.

"It is beautiful, Lorna," I said with a smile, wiping my hands on a towel. I knelt down and kissed her paint-smudged nose. "It is the most beautiful butterfly I have ever seen."

Lorna giggled and wrapped her small arms around my neck.

I closed my eyes and hugged her...