Hearing that name made my heart
ache.
Thirty-five years earlier, we had lost our newborn daughter.
John never spoke about her.
“I’ve always thought,” he continued, “if our Emily had survived and one day found herself all alone, I would have wanted someone to help her. I just couldn’t turn my back on Lily.”
Susan led us to the little girl’s room.
When Lily saw John, she cried out with joy.
“Daddy Bunny! You came!”
John walked over to her, and the little girl wrapped her arms tightly around him.
“Guess what? The doctor said I might be able to go back home to Grandma soon!”
My husband burst into tears.
Then Lily noticed me.
“Who’s that lady?”
“That’s my wife, Mary.”
The little girl smiled.
“Can she be Mommy Bunny?”
I knelt beside her bed.
“Of course, sweetheart. Next time, we’ll come together.”
