One two three, one two three, one two three.

She taps her hands to the counting,

Stares up at us.

One two three, one two three, one two three.

There's anger and confusion in her eyes.

She's been counting since Thanksgiving.

One two three, one two three.

My Papa strokes her hand and kisses her cheek.

"It's okay, Melissa. No need to count."

One two three.

He hides his tears from his Carmielutz

"I just hate leaving her behind."