If only

The nursery at church is delightfully overstaffed. Four baby-loving workers and often just two or three children. It’s toddler heaven. It’s only open during Sunday worship, but CJ doesn’t know that. On a rainy Tuesday afternoon she’ll throw her mother’s purse over her shoulder and head for the front door. “Where you going, CJ?” “Chuch.” “Why?” “Nice ladies. Nursy.”

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