J

Justin's Story

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The end of the sidewalk is where the prayer begins, and there's flapping again from the old broken wings.

The end of the sidewalk is where the music plays, strung ear to ear and under the shade.

The end of the sidewalk is where the hope grows, and the blue sky rustles while the tree boughs blow.

~Shel Silverstein

Loving you and missing you!
While watching the butterflies 2017
Your loving Family.
Published on August 12, 2017
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