When someone shows up at your door on a snowy day and hands you babies, I really don’t care who you are – You take the babies.

One day there was a knock at the door and my brother in law walked in. In his coat pocket he had two babies. He told us they had just been born and the mother had been killed. So, we did what ya do. We took the babies.

We knew a couple things. Tryin to raise newborn felines is tough, they don’t have great odds and it was going to take a lot of round-the-clock care for them to make it. But I repeat, these were babies and we’re humans, it’s just what’cha do.

With a lot of luck, and a little grit, these furry babies thrived.

I can’t help but think, that this is who we all are. If somebody shows up on your doorstep with pockets full of babies, you feed the babies.

There must be a lesson there about who we are beneath all the division, beneath all the vitriol, beneath the separation. Strip all that crap away and what is left is goodness. So go check your barn, there may be babies to feed.