The children helped me remember lessons I had forgotten. Hannah knows that life comes in rhythms of rest and wonder. She does not rush to crawl; she does not fight sleep when it comes at 9:47a.m. Anders was moved by water. He blessed the earth with his curious hands: the stones, the creek, the swans that are napping on the lawn. Kenzo was there when the job called to cancel. I passed him apple slices and he looked up at me with brown eyes, suggesting in the slow way that children talk, that maybe this means something better will come. I’m still looking for better; I think I am close. In the meantime, summer stretched into autumn. But first, I slew the hottest days of August with Amelia, Josh, and Eddy. They made their own toys with their hands, reminding me to round the corners of my world with imagination, to collect my stories like coins and pass them out like popsicles on a hot day. With midsummer came Abby. She peered at me while I peered at my computer, fidgeted until I come sit next to her, no phone, no tasks; just her and me, giggling on the couch.