Several times already we’ve had the privilege of rising early and taking the little guy from his parents at 5:30 am to rock and hold him so Mother can rest and recharge between nursings and Father can catch some zzzzzz’s. At 2 days, I rocked him in the dark, listening for tiny breaths from his baby lungs. I counted twelve of his to each one of mine.   I believe this with all my heart: each one of us, in fact every creature comes from some awestruck secret conception, intricately woven deep down in the same earth-molten place. Each time our grandson takes a breath, I hear, however faintly, whispers from that place and I just shut my mouth. I know who I’m hearing and what and from where and it reminds me that I too arrived whole from the same place with nothing to prove just a moment ago. I am loved exactly as I am. We all are.   If that’s what it means to be born imago Dei (in the image of God) then so be it.   There’s another place in our face formed especially to receive tiny human heads: it’s on the lower side-cheek between your dimple and the place your lower lip joins your upper. It’s not just a drool-notch down there. Some people also engage their noses depending on how far down they hang! Whenever I forget where I’m from, I can lean down and press a certain small human’s head into that space. The touch and smell help me remember.