of tender years

she hoists the tiny bundle high onto her hip.
angling her body carefully to protect him from the scratching wind, she gently introduces him to the seashore.
"there!" her voice is soft. "can you see that sailboat, way in the distance, bucking the waves?"
"and look!" she continues, gesturing, "how the seagulls soar and dive.."
he listens intently. his infant head swivels briefly from the house on the dunes toward the endless dancing foam, but his eyes focus only on her, her already-familiar face: she is the centre of his universe, and the source of an unconditional love and understanding that he may never know again.