Mud in her toes

She ran through the leaves
Feeling the mud in her bare little toes,
A little hanging on the eaves of her dress.
She laughed as the rain soaked her curls.
She hopped and skipped, and did a little dance.

Her dad who once saw only rain,
Gray and gloom,
Lost sight of anything else,
But the sweet smile of his princess.
He was no longer soaked,
No longer drenched.
“My little beautiful princess,
May I have this dance.”
A giggle and a courtesy, “yes”

Holding her close
He asked,
“Aren’t you afraid of the rain.”
“No, papa, God made the rain”
She giggled,
“And you’re with me, so I know I’ll be safe.”