Before Button was born, I prayed and longed for her. I imagined her sticky little handprints all over our sliding glass door, and it brought such joy to my heart. “I’ll never clean them off,” I thought.

When Button was about 11 months old, she planted her little hand on the wall of our bathroom, leaving a grimy little handprint. I recognized at the time that this was exactly what I had imagined. In honor of what I once longed for — and how this handprint symbolized the answer to a prayer — I didn’t clean off the handprint.

I noticed it again this morning. Where it once matched Button’s hand perfectly, it’s now about half the size of her hand now. It brought such joy to my heart; I’ll never clean it off.