Born this happy morning, to working class folks. One child. One morning. One life. And the world is new.
We were able this year to send some money down to Montrouis so Olmy could get a bed. He has never owned one. I am stunned by the contrast, we so rich beyond the wildest dreams of avarice, and most in the world with no room for them at the inn. I hope Olmy sleeps in peace, at least a little. And maybe dreams of the King of Angels, and the day of justice.
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