Look at this child.
Her eyes see.
They sparkle pure love onto eleven people on the face of this earth.
They crinkle with radiant happiness when the people she adores come to enjoy her.
They tell her hands where to find her mama’s face.
They gaze in curiosity at anything that catches her interest.
They give her face a whole range of expressions.
They may need to be adorned with a cute pair of glasses a few months from now. Imagine that. <wink>
Her ears hear.
She perks up at her daddy’s voice, and cranes her neck to see his face.
She cries at sudden loud noises, and is only reassured by being held tightly in my arms and looking into my eyes.
She smiles knowingly when she hears the words and phrases I say to her over and over again.
She is overcome with pleasure at the sound of her family singing around her.
Her taste buds work.
Mama’s milk, of course, with all its subtle variations depending on mama’s meals.
She’s had other tastes, too. Orange-flavored Lasix, cherry-flavored Keflex, elderberry-flavored Sambucus, cod liver oil. She’s liked them all but the Keflex.
Her hands work.
They are precious and perfect and hold onto toys, her bib, my finger.
She has a voice.
She talks back and forth with me, clear meaning in the expression of her face. She “goos” and laughs with the best of them.
Her muscles and her nerves work to make her move.
She may have low muscle tone but she is not paralyzed.
She has personality.
She laughs at the little games I play with her.
She shows her delight when she sees her favorite froggy friend within hands’ reach, and she carries on conversations with him.
She shouts a baby shout when we ignore her sleepy signals for too long. “I am done being sociable and I want my bed now,” clear as clear to those with ears to hear.
She has unfavorable opinions about tummy time.
She is bright-eyed and curious.
But her most prominent characteristic is her sweetness.
She is lovely.
She has soft peachy fuzz growing on her head, despite how she may appear in photographs. As much hair, I might add, as her siblings had at this age.
She has dainty eyebrows and eyelashes.
Her skin is soft and perfect.
Her features are delicately feminine.
Every cell of every one of her features carries an extra chromosome.
This shouldn’t WORK!
But when God looks down at this child He has made, what does He see?
“You are worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honor and power: for You have created all things, and for Your pleasure they are and were created.”