Hope.

I was having a dark day. A series of conversations with a man about a flooring dilemma triggered my ancient sense of distrust.

And there are always other ghosts.

We went on a walk and I was trying to help my son learn to ride his bicycle without training wheels. He kept listing and I despaired.

When I got home (last) two other family members were pushing him between them back and forth–the way we teach children to swim.

It worked. They did it. He can ride now.

But more importantly, his riding gives me hope. Ordinary miracles.

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