I knew I was special when my mother would look at me with a quiet, peaceful, expression of love. It was a pleasant face with a hint of a smile. Take the emotive qualities of that face and add a touch of pride – that was the look of love from my father. Both of them showed no hint of phoniness; but were accepting, genuine, and kind. They did not invite a hug, but in their light a hug was always natural and appropriate. That look meant more than words ever could because it said it all.
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