I hear her dancing in the wind...beckoning me to come outside...feel the rain upon my face...but do I dare? I've watched from the pane as she stood ablaze in autumns glory - slowly letting go of each brilliant hue. Watched while her limbs bent low through the long winter - burdened by the very thing that sustained. Watched while pops of green unfurled - life once again. I've surveyed from the window, but to go and meet her? The soil that she feeds upon cradles my child and I can't bring myself to go there. It's been a year since my baby opened her eyes and looked into the face of Jesus...while I held her tiny frame here on earth. Miriam Grace. She has a name. My name. The name I was given while in Israel - what my grandparents and family always called me. Miriam: Bitter, Sea of sorrow, Longed for or wished for child. Grace: God's favor. She was God's favor to me. Losing her has been bitter. My heart has been filled with sorrow and longing but