I read the last line and I covered my face with my hands, and sobbed.

She had put HER flower in MY book. Only Bonnie would think of that, and now she was gone.

As I wept I didn't hear tiny footsteps come down the stairs. A few strands of curly black hair tickled my arm and I glanced forward. My little Esther stood before me looking at me with a puzzled look. "Papa? Were you crying?" She asked in a small voice. I smiled weakly and shook my head.

"No Esther, I am fine. I was just thinking." She focused her gray eyes on the book I held in my pale hands, Gulliver's Travels "Ooooo, pretty." she cheerfully said picking up the pansy. Esther grinned and sniffed the flower to see if any sense had managed to exist after so long wedged in between two pages. As she smelled, I noticed how much Esther represented Bonnie: gray eyes which sparkled with curiosity. Black hair that moved even when she stood still.

My eyes welled up tears but for Esther's sake I would not let the floods go. Esther replaced the pansy and crawled on my lap. Her black dress covered both my legs. She let her head fall on my chest and I rocked her side-to-side with my arms securing her against my coat.

"Esther. Do you know how much you look like your mother?" I asked and Esther sighed. "She used to tell me remember. Until I couldn't see her." She looked at me, "Daddy? Will Mamma ever come home again."

I paused my slight movement to debate whether I should hold back or tell her. Shaking my head I resumed side-to-side movement. "No Esther. She is not. Just you and me." Glancing at Esther's petite face I saw the curve of a frown. "Oh." Is all Esther mumbled.

Replacing her head on my chest I saw her eyelids droop and her breathing shallowed as she drifted off to a light sleep.

I didn't stop because I was in deep thought. Wallowing in self-pity I realized that I had a mini Bonnie, right here. She was on my lap. I pushed my fingers through her hair and softly commented in her hair, "My little girl."