Someday, we'll tell her. About the snow on the ground when we got up and the way her big brother slapped his forehead in disbelief and sighed a big tired-of-all-this-snow sigh. About an Easter sunrise service and breakfast with friends down the road. About the Grandmas being there and a church full of witnesses to watch and speak those words of promise to her: "We will! God helping us!" About how her parents both got a little chokey-upy when her Daddy got to the part "For you, Ellie Grace, Jesus Christ came into the world; for you he died; and for you he conquered death. All this he did for you, Ellie, though you know nothing of it as yet."
About how her Dad believes in "lots of water" and how it spilled and washed her wet.
About the prayer we sang for vision, a prayer-song that wove its way through her life before she was even in it, from her mom and dad's wedding, to her big brothers' and sister's baptisms, from home to home to home. About how afraid her siblings were that she would cry through the whole thing, and about how she didn't utter a peep. About how proud we were of them all.