More on: parent

Twenty years ago, we brought the first child home. We held him, and the silence before us then was the deep, vast thrum of all we didn’t know. We were here, suddenly parents. The silence weighed down the air like boulders on silk. And then, of course, he cried.

I had wagered more than I could afford to lose on the probability that God was a friend to the orphan and a protector of the vulnerable.