New direction

I got a wicked case of something resembling food poisoning, and then got my period, so I don't have much energy to write. But I read something beautiful this weekend in the Styles section of the New York Times. Margaret Gunther wrote in the Modern Love column about the adoption of her eldest son:

"Sure enough, as if it were meant to be all along, we waited not the usual six months to a year for our first child. Instead he came almost immediately, ahead of the crib and already named. A newborn whose birth mother chose us, he flew into our lives like a tiny tornado, washing away my sins and assuming, as babies do, that I was as perfect and blameless as he was."

So lovely.