Crosspost of a blog here.

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She remembered the day he was born.

He was born, like all children are—wriggling and kicking and screaming. From the first time she set eyes on him, she knew she had birthed an angel. She marveled at how this creature—this small, delightful, adorable bundle of goodness and happiness, with his gurgles, his cries, and his laughs—had come out of her. If there are miracles, surely that is one.

She remembered the day he began to crawl. Oh how proud he was of the crawling. He’d bop around, always wanting to be wherever the action was. Propelled by his little limbs, nothing seemed to give him more joy than crawling. She often marveled at how rapidly those tiny little limbs were able to propel him.

She remembered the day he spoke his first words. His small, uncertain, little voice, uttering the word for mother. [...]

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Narrated by TYPE III AUDIO.