He propped himself up in that classic way that only babies do, his arms stretching out beneath him like airplane wings, forming a tripod with the rest of his body, and his wobbly head teetering at that precarious balancing point where he would either give into the relentless pull of gravity or muster the strength to look upward. He chose the latter and with a Herculean effort lifted his head to set sight on the world in front of him. As if supremely proud of his accomplishment, his chubby face beamed with the widest smile I have ever seen. I melted the moment our eyes met.
Feinstein JA. Setting Sights. Arch Pediatr Adolesc Med. 2005;159(12):1101. doi:10.1001/archpedi.159.12.1101
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