That night, after putting them both to bed, I sat by the window, watching snow fall over the quiet streets.
I thought of David — his courage, his faith, his letter. He had left us too soon, but a part of him had returned through the miracle of life and love.
I whispered softly to the sleeping baby in my arms, “You were never meant to be lost. You were always meant to come home.”
And for the first time in a long while, my heart felt whole.
