Tuesday, September 25, 2007
I said to the baby girl - and I know you should not ask such questions of children - "Who do you love the most?". She stared back at me, her face all truth and beauty; hazel blue eyes and her mouth which looks like mine at the corners. I whispered again as I bunched her to me, settling in to the rocking chair: "Who do you love the most? The best? Who in this world?" She lay back into me, raised up her plastic cup of milk as if to make a toast. "Granny," she confided.