I loved this and wanted to share; credit to source is at the bottom link. I did not write this, but it gave me a lovely feeling and I hope you will enjoy it. 'A billion cold rocks, scarred and pitted, Hurtle through space. Given the odds, Aren't we lucky, so unfathomably lucky, Just to be alive. A stray beam of light careens from one of these rocks. Hits something. Bounces to something else. Behold - a magnolia in full bloom - hanging like an apparition above the San Francisco Bay - a lotus field from a Buddhist paradise. How can I say I am not lucky? When a billion years of intergalactic accidents have conspired to bring me this gift. Indecision. Right? Left? Right? Left? I walk through a door and there is the love of my life. How lucky, how unfathomably, uncharacteristically lucky, that I just didn't blow it. Her face reddens and strains. She screams. Another minute surely she shall die. Or I will. Then the baby's head emerged, tiny tired perfection, weary as an old man, radiant as an angel. How can I say that I'm not lucky? Just to be alive. A doctor walks in. She need say nothing. The answer is etched in her eyes. Those shadows on your liver are cancer, metastatic cancer. But how can I say that I'm not lucky? Just to be alive. Like you.' -Rick Kohn, Mr. Lucky, in the Fall 2000 edition of Inquiring Mind. from https://rainbowtwo.tumblr.com/
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