The top photo is one of the few I have of my mother as a small girl: the second is of my granddaughter, taken about a year ago. If you darken Little Stuff's eyebrows and hair in your imagination you should see a resemblance.
It is more than just the facial structure and mouth. I watched Little Stuff at her gym meet this morning, sober, focused, determined. And I saw my mother, in miniature, in so many ways.
And Little Stuff did her stuff, too. She stuck every apparatus, did every move as perfectly as she could, ignoring the crowd and the cameras and the action all over the gym. She got great scores and was very pleased with herself. As were we. I only wish my mother could have seen her.