When Modi was a baby, his family employed a nurse to hold him, rock him, and wipe the drool from his chin. He felt safe in her lap, which was generous. Her arms were strong when she held him, and unlike his mother, she had nothing else that she had to do, no other responsibilities except to deluge love and embraces all over him.
He was easy to love. His eyes were round and bright, his mouth had a pretty, feminine pout. He was slighter than his siblings, therefore he remained baby-like well into his early childhood. The nurse loved nothing more than to chase him around the room, scoop him up, and kiss his little face and neck until he burst into little crystal peals of giggles.