By the age of 39, I had learned that peace is usually quiet and often a gift.
« Mom, did you hide the granola bars again? »
Aaron’s voice came from somewhere behind the cereal boxes.
I had learned that peace is usually quiet.
My son was 17, tall, and has always been one of the kindest people I know.
He was holding open a plastic bag as if he were packing for a trip.
« They’re on the second shelf, where they always are, » I said. « Who eats four granola bars? »
« Lily likes the chocolate ones. The hospital food is awful, » Aaron said casually, the way other kids might mention a coffee run.
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