Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
-- Emily Dickinson
Here's to hope.... we're off to DC Sunday for the inauguration and celebrating our finally being on the referral wait list, as of 1/12/09.
I read all of your posts, but I don't seem to manage to respond here. Have a good time in D.C. and think of it as your last time to see a swearing-in while still childless. :-)
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