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When our first grandchild came
to be with us, my father held back, unable
to bring himself again to give his heart
to another child, another who would
call forth his love, no matter the cost.
And then, knowing her smallness, her helplessness,
her inheritance of this world’s sorrow,
he gave his heart, and so was given
what he had suffered longest and needed most.
By Wendell Berry
From A Small Porch: Sabbath Poems 2014
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Note from CM:
Yesterday was National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.