When I hold Jana close to me and look down to see my hand tight across her chest. Or when I tuck a blanket around her while she sleeps and touch the skin of her cheek. I see your hands（those hardworking hands with their smooth oval nails, steady and capable and caring）doing the same things. Then I feel as if some of the love and security you gave to me through those hands is now in mine, as I pass that Iove on to Jana.
The other day Jana fell asleep against my arm. I must have spent fifteen or twenty minutes staring at her, marveling at the wheat color of her hair, the suppleness of her skin, her perfect tiny red mouth, moving now and then in sleep. What a rush I felt, of love and wonder, of care and luck, and more. I suddenly remembered something I saw on your face last summer, when I was home on a visit shortly after Jana's birth.