“You know what’s weird?? And sad?? It’s 12:30 AM and I’m holding the most beautiful five week old infant in my arms. The whole house is quiet and dark. I’m just listening to him breathe i’m soaking in the warmth of this baby sleeping peacefully on my chest. And I can’t move. Can’t go to bed. And it’s not my baby. It’s not my grandbaby. Somewhere close by there is a woman who lives with the hell of addiction. Of hopelessness. I just imagine that she feels lost, alone. Ashamed. Ugly. Hurt. Undeserving. I don’t know if this is true-but I imagine that her arms are empty and longing to be sitting where I’m sitting , where it’s quiet and safe and clean and free from strangers, noise, abuse and danger and there is peace and love. Rest. Redemption.