It had taken everything we had to bring him to that ordinary moment.

And there is no achievement of my whole life, professional or personal, that I am prouder of than the fact that my son can watch the rain fall now and feel warm.

Late that night, after he was asleep, I stood in his doorway.

I thought about that vast, gated, multi-million-dollar house with its central heat and its manicured gardens and its closed and locked doors.

And I looked into my son’s small warm bedroom, the nightlight glowing softly, his science fair drawings pinned proudly above his desk, his backpack sitting safe beside his bed.