What an amazing day. The glass-topped table outside contained hundreds of interesting new inhabitants that you could watch from above. Clusters of teeeeeeny tiiiiny newly hatched spiders on the underside of the glass.
I reached under and touched them. They spread everywhere, with long strands of gossamer streaming behind. Itsy-bitsy new lives.
They were so small, no larger than a pinhead. I wondered aloud what something that little could eat, and John said they ate very very small sandwiches. I was unable to give a better answer.
What will they accomplish in their tiny mysterious lives? I don't know, but it is probably more important than you or I could guess. All baby spiders shall live.
In this whole wide world, who else was born on the 18th of May, 2015? In the year of the mountain sheep, 2015, the day that Mt. St. Helens awoke in in 1980, the day that Bram Stoker's novel Dracula was first read in London (1897), the day that Montreal, Canada, was founded in 1642?
Our third grandson, born at home in a little apartment above a garage in New Jersey. Welcome to this world, little beautiful one. We do not yet know your name, but your presence on this planet may be more important than you or I could guess. May you live a long and happy life.