When the fox found his family, she climbed into my lap without asking.

I held the book with both hands, afraid that any sudden movement might end the moment.

Later I told Miriam about it.

“And what did you feel?” she asked.

“Grateful. Frightened. Like I didn’t deserve it.”

“You don’t need to turn her affection into a verdict on your worth,” she said.

“She needed a comfortable place to sit while you read.

Be that place.”