I cried when they took him away, even though I knew that little Matty had to go to his home in North Carolina. I had grown so attached to him. I held him close in my arms every day, and we grew to be great friends, even though he was still an infant. As his mother and grandmother loaded up the suitcases and baby effects, my heart was bursting with pain.
I remember our favorite activity. He would lay on my lap with his head on my knees and his legs pointed upward upon my chest, and he would play, “Thump Thump,” with his feet—“Thump Thump Thump Thump” upon my chest.
Matty was nine months old when he left to go to his home. I thought then that we would never be able to play the Thump Thump game again. Boy was I wrong! For, you see, Matty grew very…
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