An Ocean of Possibility In Her Eyes (written in third person)

When she was born on March 20, 2006, the nurses called her the most beautiful baby in the hospital. She has an intense gaze coupled with a knowing smile, suggesting her vivacity for life and hope beyond it. She just stares with glowing brown eyes at all her onlookers, melting even the hardest of hearts.

She is named Mercy because her parents want to give her purpose and meaning, an ancient tradition rarely practiced in Western culture. They were the first to experience this intended compassion through her. Never before had they, especially Mercy’s mother, seen any child with this sense of reality before, and never again will they look at any child the same. All children now seem like their own.

Her mother relishes each giggle, tear, smile and wail of her daughter, and is growing more tolerant of other crying babies in grocery lines. She thinks it was fascinating from the start of Mercy’s life to watch her develop, and through poop and tantrums she began to learn how to love others in ways she never knew were possible.

Without intentionally accomplishing anything in her short life, Mercy’s innocence and innate intensity has wielded the power to embolden young and old alike. Soon after Mercy was born, her mother was compelled to return to college to set an example for Mercy and her future children, and so that through a new career as a journalist she could love the children of the world.

Even now at the mere age of two, she still attracts the awe and wonder of her parents and the public eye. In her eyes lie an undeniable hope and possibility that is contagious to all who she meets.