He screwed up his face and his cries grew louder and more insistent. Mary Grace came to Rachel’s side and looked down at her nephew. And she started to sing. Her voice was thin from lack of use, but haunting. Each note wavered, vibrating with a lifetime of feeling. No—not a lifetime. A hundred lifetimes. She sang for herself and for all those who had come before. Her song had pain, frustration and disappointment in it. But also joy, relief, love. Hope. The world stopped turning. The sun held its place in the sky. Everything was still as Mary Grace sang. Rachel watched her daughter’s lips
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