Maria just came from her first month check up. I need a chill pill; some soothing tonic to relieve the grief of being there when she had her first immunization. First her eyes widened, then she inhaled and color rose from her chin up her face, so much color, deeper and deeper cranberry, and no exhale. And when she looked as though she could not possibly deepen her vermilion pain, out came her cry. She exhaled with a mighty wail, then aftershocks of shock and indignation, then a tear, her first tear, rolled down her cheek.

I cannot keep pain away, or disappointment. She will scrape her knees and stub her toes. She will have bad haircuts, pimples, tough tests, and other trials. I can only hope that none of her challenges exceeds her strength, or her will to grow and flourish, or her conviction that life is sorrow and joy and mostly worthwhile. So, when she cries I will comfort her as best I can and I will whisper in her ear, "Never give up, never surrender."

She weighs 10 pounds and seven ounces, which means she has gained 3 pounds. She has grown from 18.5 inches to 21 inches. And she can track the little monkey her doctor waved in a path over her head. All results of the inquiries and inspections indicate uncommon genius, health, creativity and grace. We are so pleased.