When you came into the world you were a baby, but you had not always been a baby. Before you could be born you had first to grow to be a baby.
That meant a great deal of growing, for when you began your life you were much smaller than you were on the day on which you were born. You were so small that you could hardly have been seen. You were smaller than the tiniest dot that you can make with the sharpest pencil you can find. You were smaller than the little specks that dance in a sunbeam where it comes through the window. You were so small that you did not even seem to be a baby, and you really weren't a baby. You were almost as round as a ball and you looked more like a little egg than like anything else; and that is exactly what you were—a tiny, little egg.
