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The life of a child is about firsts. The life of a parent is about lasts.
Kit marveled at the human capacity not only to endure, but to find joy in the midst of suffering. Sure, right now it was calm. But at any second everything could change and they could all be dead. None of them had forgotten that. How could they? But they’d shifted the weight, found a new point of balance, and carried on anyway.
