Before I had my son, I watched a friend's little five-month-old girl. I'd watch her a few times a week, and this went on until she was more than a year old.

What made this nanny experience different than my previous ones - was that my little angel-girl was deaf. She was born without hearing in either ear.

I would spend my days with her looking at Baby Eistein videos, showing her books, going for walks, and walking up behind her and clapping really loudly 'just in case'. She never stirred. But in time, she would turn and smile, and she'd melt you into a thousands pieces with that smile. I adored her.

She had a surgery on her 1st birthday that allowed her to hear. I remember when her mom brought her to my house for the first time after her implant was turned on. I was able to talk and she was able to hear my voice for the first time. I cried like a baby.

This weekend, I saw her again. She's four now, lives in a different city, and although we keep up with pictures and letters and phone calls, I haven't really been around her.

She said my name.
She told me stories about her best friend in school.
She told me about her shoes.
She told me about the bows on her dress.
She informed me that my son was 'bothering' her.
She talked .
She heard.
I cried.
Yet again.

I watch her parents right-arm their way into getting her not one, but two implants. I sat with her during hearing tests that failed again. I brought Bailey's to her mom when yet another doctor told her 'no, she's just not a candidate for this surgery'.

She wasn't my baby, but I would have done anything in the world for her. I still would.

I'm listening to the sounds now of my son and this precious little girl playing in the other room. She's laughing and he's laughing, talking to each other and having the best of times.

It's so good to see how she's arrived.
And certainly, in style.