In the Service

I know I don't want to forget.
He sat by me in the service and watched my finger as I ran it under the words of the hymn while we sang.
He looked away and I thought he was done so I stopped.
Then he's climbing in my lap.
He's pulling my finger back to the page, silently telling me to start again.
As I do, I hear his voice join the congregation.  Not with the words, he cannot read them yet.
But with the tune.
And it is a sweet sound, this little one joining in the chorus of worship.

Later, I see his sister writing in her journal.
Writing the words her daddy just spoke.
"This fellowship comes at a cost."
I wonder why she chose that to write.  What's going on in her mind, in her heart at that moment?
I do not know, but my own heart was a little fuller and a little more thankful.