Thomas Kinkade Footprints in the sand painting

Thomas Kinkade Footprints in the sand paintingThomas Kinkade Christmas Cottage paintingThomas Kinkade almost heaven painting
napkin, and folded it again more narrowly, and again still more narrowly, and pressed the butt end of it against her mouth, and laid it beside her plate, where it slowly and slightly unfolded, and, looking first at Rufus and then at Catherine and then back at Rufus, said quietly, “I think you ought to know about your father. Whatever I can tell you. Because your mother’s not feeling well.”
Now I’ll know when he is coming Home, Catherine thought.
All through breakfast, Rufus had wanted to ask questions, but now he felt so shy and uneasy that he could hardly speak. “Who hurt him?” he finally asked.
“Why nobody hurt him, Rufus,” she said, and she looked shocked. “What on earth made you think so?”
Mama said so, Catherine thought.
“Mama said he got hurt so bad God put him to sleep,” Rufus said