The new baby gazed up at its mother with trusting hazel eyes, ten days before Christmas Eve, and the young woman’s heart thrilled with delight. She glanced up at her tall husband, and he nodded.
“Dymphna,” she whispered, ruffling the fuzz of fresh auburn hair.
“Aoife,” her handsome husband added firmly, and the young mother felt the baby’s tiny heart beating in its chest.
She thought a moment, and ran her little finger down the pretty baby eyebrows arched in the elegant German style. “Valeska.” She nodded at the baby girl.
“Dymphna Aoife Valeska Watersheen – long live our daughter! Named for her beloved great-aunt, her lovely mother and her much-loved grandmother!” honoured Vinzent.
“Yes,” said Aoife softly. “She’s just like Auntie ‘Nymph’. The living image, even though we were never directly related. She was destined to be named Dymphna.”
“Thank you, Aoife,” said her aunt.