I wonder if babies are born without language in order to teach us how to listen to more than words…

I don’t think I fully appreciated this possibility as the first-time mom of an infant who seemed to have only two settings: scream and catnap (with one eye open). But the perspective of years and the tremendous advantage of a good night’s sleep seem to have a substantial positive effect on one’s powers of observation. That is my impression, anyhow, though I’ve chosen not to ask anyone directly, “Don’t you think I see more clearly than I did 30 years ago — or is it just me?”

But to return to the point, take this engaging conversation with my very first grandchild, Belle who is now six and a half.

Mimi: “Belle, how delightful to see you!”

Belle: “I’m so happy to see you, too, Mimi! But Mimi! Please note that there’s not so much as a scrap of breakfast left in my tummy!”

Mimi: “How about a little snackerel of something, Belle?”

Belle: “Well, yes, I think I might!”

Mimi: “Ummmm! Yummy milk!”

Belle [by turns]: “Now I want it, now I don’t.  Ha!  How clever am I! Now I want it, now I don’t.  Look what I can do!”

And so she went on, fascinating me with her fascination.

You’ve determined, of course, that Baby Belle is six and a half in months, not years.  While my daughter and son-in-law and I each secretly believe that her joyful exhales of “Haaaaai!” actually constitute an official greeting directly personally at us, mostly we’re not delusional and know that she can’t talk yet (probably).

In words, that is.  Because Belle and I absolutely had this conversation today, but I would have missed it if I’d been busy or distracted or if I’d just been listening and not watching.  Belle’s sharp eyes dart around, watching everything, and her face and hands and actually her whole body speak for her.  She breaks into a smile of delight as a greeting and exhales (or says –  you decide), “Haaaaaaai.” She reaches for her bottle, takes a few long satisfying slurps, and then looks up and pushes it away.  She smiles, then, and reaches to pull it back, deliciously well-pleased with her ability to express and implement a choice.

Belle is talking.  And she is surrounded by people who are “raising” her voice by carefully paying attention and receiving her messages. Already she speaks with joy and confidence.

Hers will not be a lost voice. And if someday as a teenager in search of independence, she offers us fewer words, how important that she is teaching us now how to listen without them.