The second Dziadzi (Grandpa for the non Polish folk in the crowd) came through the door, he snatched me up with a big smile and hugged me and hugged me and hugged me. Grandma (Babci for the Polish folk in the crowd) waited with excitement for her turn. From that second till they left, they took turns holding me with the same excitement and love as when they first saw me. They must really love me. I really love them.
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