705394F8-5C3A-443C-9E30-072A2391D742.jpegLight was  streaming in the windows illuminating the white furniture, and splashing warmth on the walls.  Anna sat tuning her guitar.

“A…A …B…B….G” she sang each note as she plucked.

”Hey Mom…”

I looked up from my latest writing piece.


”I think people need tuning.  Just like my guitar.  Who tunes people?”

I didn’t have to think, the answer sounded in my head much like a ringing A note.

”God does, honey…God tunes people.”

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