December 1920

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December 1920

Tom stood by the window, staring down at his new born daughter. His heart ached for his wife to be here, to see their baby. But the newborn girl, with deep blue eyes and wavy black hair, reminded Tom that she was still here, in his daughter.

The baby opened her eyes slightly and gave a yawn. He pulled up the swaddling blanket up to her chin, for it was a frigid December morning. Tom looked at his beloved girl again, and began to think about the many things she would have to grow up with.

"How will she live with no mother? Will she ask about her? How will I ever tell her about it?" All those questions raced through his head. His poor, poor girl with no mother, and no name.

Tom began to ponder about names. Sybil, his wife, would think he'd be a bit crazy for not naming her yet. They had considered so many, Josephine, Elise, Lily. Tom didn't think those names suitable for her.

She needed a name so special, it made him quiver. Finally, a wonderful name popped into his mind.

He would call her Sybil- to represent his wife. He'd nickname her Sybbie for short, it was cute and sweet. Sybbie Branson, his gift, his saviour, his little wonder.

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