“Who needs music when I have an angel in my arms? Are those harps I hear?” Grace looked at the ceiling dismissing my corny line. Pulling her snug little body close to mine with our hands held close to my heart, I pressed my cheek to hers. “I can’t dance without music,” she insisted through a giggle.”

“Who needs music when I have an angel in my arms? Are those harps I hear?” Grace looked at the ceiling dismissing my corny line. Pulling her snug little body close to mine with our hands held close to my heart, I pressed my cheek to hers. “I can’t dance without music,” she insisted through a giggle.”

— K.L. Shandwick