Snug Gun, Light Hand

This morning my nine-year-old daughter was correcting math problems. The pencil seemed so light in her hand, the numbers so random. Why should this have amazed and distressed me--that her hand was not firm and heavy, that her line was loose?

Within the week a friend sent pictures with Santa from a Christmas party a few years ago at church. My three oldest, pictured at that point, have since become more defined in their features; they've lost the softness of the younger.

Why does maturing mean more definition, more line, more angles, both in words and in countenance? I think about the wisdom of serpents and the harmlessness of doves, wondering how to hold myself and my pen like both fangs and feathers.