The Voices of My Daughter's Life

Five-year-old Matty lugged around a small red toolbox with an open lid and wooden handle. Everywhere we went in the house, Matty filled it with every tool an assistant carpenter could ever need. On day six of renovations, I was pulling out some drywall from the dining room when I noticed Matty wasn't with me. After a few seconds listening, I heard the low hum of voices drifting from nearby. It really did sound like two distinct voices in a conversation.