“I’m thankful for Daddy, who came to get me when I was sad. And I’m thankful for Mommy, who reads me stories every week now. And I’m thankful for my microscope and my books and Alexander the Great.”
“The hamster?” Miranda asked.
“The hamster,” Sophie confirmed solemnly.
We laughed, and it felt good—genuine and warm and real in a way that expensive china continue reading …
