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February 9, 2012
With her pacifier dangling from the side of her mouth and that swirl of white blond hair on her forehead that looks astonishingly like male pattern baldness, she has the air of an aging professor chewing meditatively on his unlit pipe. Her eyes--dark blue with the color sucked out at the center--are squinted with skepticism. Her left eyebrow is raised.

Who will she be? What will she believe? When will that look of disbelief change to one of awe? Of joy? Of love?

My god, such a tiny thing. So delicate.

Little one, you could save this world.