Pine Grove, Montana, 1896 — “Come on, Gracie, you can do it!”
With a giggle, the ten-month-old took another wobbly step towards her father, her mother holding her hands along the way. Then Celia Grant cautiously let go, Gracie took another step, and–fell rear-first onto the dusty ground. It didn’t seem to upset her, judging by her giggles.
Her father, Harry, reached out and swung her up into his arms. Gracie reached up and grabbed the brim of his hat and tugged it down. “You’re almost there, Gracie girl,” he remarked, chuckling as he pried her tiny fingers away and tipped his hat back up.
“Soon enough, you’ll be runnin’ and your pa and I won’t be able to keep up,” Celia said, tucking a loose strand of chestnut hair behind her ear.
Gracie yawned. Celia held out her arms and Harry transferred their daughter to her. “Time for bed, sweetie,” she said. As she was carried to bed, Gracie’s head dropped onto her mother’s shoulder.
Celia gently placed her in her cradle and kissed her forehead. “Goodnight, sweet girl.”
©H.S. Kylian 2018
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This post was last updated on October 14, 2022
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