The Seven Smiths: Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star

7 comments:

Emily said...: OK, it doesn't get any cuter than than, FOR SURE!! I love the "sky-hi" part and the little extra ditties she threw in...that girl has some TALENT! Watch out American Idol!; January 17, 2009 at 11:16 PM
Karen said...: She has some SERIOUS singing skills! Absolutely darling!; January 19, 2009 at 12:15 AM
Jeannette said...: I came to comment in the sky-y part but someone beat me to it! That part just melted my grinchy heart.; January 20, 2009 at 6:35 PM
Anonymous said...: Miranda is the cutest. It's cause she is a Hurst. We got good genes!!!; January 23, 2009 at 7:23 PM
Clint, Mel & Kids said...: I like the dance moves!; January 25, 2009 at 2:56 PM
Marilyn said...: We love to watch our sweet Miranda dance. Love Grandma.; January 30, 2009 at 4:35 PM
Rachel said...: Miranda is the cutest because she's a Hurst AND Smith (ahem). Your children all sing so well! I remember a mini-Bethany running around (was she even 2) la-la-la-ing with perfect pitch. Watch out, Osmonds!; February 2, 2009 at 12:12 AM

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Life as we Know it...

Life as we know it is a span so short in duration that should we blink, our lives are past. Mortality is a fabric woven tight with strips of lingering sorrow, peaks of ecstacy, valleys of despair and experiences best described in retrospect as bittersweet. In birth we cry, in life we laugh and weep, in death we wait and wonder. Against this mandatory school called earth we sometimes pass with flying colors and other times we simply do not make the grade. It's not the winning that exalts us in the end, it's the getting up for the bell when our faces are bloodied, when we have all but been counted out lying face down on the canvas of life. When enduring to the end seems less daunting than getting by until tomorrow, the prospect of eternity is blurred, but yet we take one baby step at a time, without acclaim but holding fast to faith until we finish with the victor's sprint.

-M. Dwight Hurst