Ginny is my one and only daughter. She’s almost eight years old. I see alot of me in her. And then I see even more potential in her than I ever saw in me. Last night when she came to hug me for no specific reason, I wanted to stop and just study her face. A mother must do this from time to time so hopefully an imprint of their young faces will stay within the memory. I enjoyed and admired the little face, honestly and trustingly, looking up at me. She had the red, white and blue look. What I mean by that is she had red lips (redder than normal from the dry weather), pale white skin that she inherited from her mother and father, and blue eyes like all the rest of us and then an added accent of freckles that the sun sprinkled in a path of across the bridge of her nose.