Grandpa hid my daughter’s hands under the blanket every time I came in — one day I opened the door without knocking and saw something I didn’t expect.

Emily slowly moved her fingers.

“It means, ‘I love you, Mom.’”

I repeated the same gesture, then looked at my father.

The secret I had been so afraid of turned out to be the kindest thing my daughter had ever done.

And the elderly man I had doubted, even for a moment, had simply been teaching her how to speak a language that doesn’t require ears to understand.