Wheeling Gull Isle we sing, “look at all this love we’ve found”

Sky Daddy? But you're my Daddy, she retorts, a pout to her lower lip. She thinks on it, and in her little head, she tries to imagine what God looks like.

She pictures a tall, omnipotent version of Daddy himself, with big cartoonish wings and a glowing golden halo. He sits on a bed of clouds, rosy hued and dreamy. She wished she could hang out with Him. That sounded fun!

And then, she thinks about how He made everything; Mama says that too, and she imagines He took His big, godly paws and rubbed them together, and with a wink, the Earth appeared in front of Him. Or maybe, He took a bunch of ingredients and put them in a soup! How did He make us? she says, then, one little paw outstretched to the clouds. and why?