Smiles

6:00 a.m. Every morning it comes, arriving precisely on time, conspiring with my body to wake me in the sleepiest possible state. And with it, chirping softly as she pushes up on two tiny arms to see what she can of our dimly lit room through the ivory colored bars of her crib, my reason for waking up.

I stumble negligently out of bed and walk over to collect my daughter. I do this very well with my eyes closed. I carry her over to my wife’s side, and place her gently on the bed. She clasps her little hands together with a smile in anticipation of her favorite food—one that only her mother can provide. Having come to terms that I am not capable of fulfilling this need, I go back to bed. About ten or so minutes later, my wife nudges me lovingly and motions for me to look at our very satisfied baby who is clearly ready for the day. “Well,” I think to myself, “I guess that makes two of us.”

Out in the living room daylight forces my eyes to adjust. Over in one corner is the blanket of the day, laid out in a neat square shape, with a toy or two waiting to be played with. I imagine the toys suddenly pretending to be inanimate as I walk around the corner and wonder if I’ve seen Toy Story too many times. I lay Eve down on her back and her arms quickly straighten over her head as she stretches from the 11 hour slumber that must be quite rejuvenating. I, on the other hand, still can’t seem to get enough sleep.

“I’m tired,” I say to myself as I look down at her.

“You are?!” her wide eyes seem to say back to me. “You should come to bed at 7 with me. I feel great.”

And as I think about how to explain why I never make it to bed at 7, her wide eyed stare shifts into a smile and my tiredness is momentarily forgotten as we begin to exchange smiles and before I know it I’ve said “Good Morning” in 5 varieties of baby talk. She has a way like that.

No matter how hard I try to complain about being tired, or having to go to work, or not getting to be a baby and lay around on soft blankets all day and take naps, she takes the wind out of my discontent. With every smile she gives, I feel a little bit warmer, a little bit happier. This warmth and happiness builds by the minute as I’m with her, and by the time I have to walk out the door to catch the bus to work I’m wishing I could wake up at 6:00 a.m. all over again.

It’s amazing to me what power there is in such a simple expression on such a little face. Behind Eve’s smile is the purest innocence, unspoiled in a world of spoiled things. Behind her smile I see joy uninhibited by the worries of life. I see excitement that is not jaded; enthusiasm that is not forced. And I see a love that expresses itself in recognition: she knows me, and the sight of me makes her happy. I cannot imagine a better feeling. It overwhelms me, and for the life of me I can’t figure out what I did to deserve this smile, but I would never, ever undo it.

“I love you,” I say to her, as she grasps one of my fingers in each hand, bringing them slowly to her mouth, cooing all the while.

And though she can’t return the sentiment, she doesn’t have to. I know love when I see it, and I see it in her smile.

N