He has His Father’s Eyes By Marva Jean Griffin Dec 20, 2008 I hold my newborn son so gently in my arms. And I tenderly caress His tiny form. His soft features, His tiny hands, I touch them with wonder. His soft brown hair, just enough there, and His long lashes Flutter as He sleeps and His mouth moves, and His chin trembles, As if He is anticipating the meal He will soon partake. I know He is perfect, so perfect. And I sit in awe of His miraculous birth. How could I be so blessed? As I look at his soft features, I realize this boy child is awake now and looking at me, His mother. How tiny He is, how beautiful He is And I know He has His Father’s eyes. My son grows and is strong—Soon He smiles and coos and laughs too. His tiny hands want to touch everything. He is such a good child! No murmuring sound He makes. I see Him watch and learn and grow. I see His Eyes that reflect eternity, and He has His Father’s eyes. Now my son is a young man – He’s grown so fast. He...