续写 We sat at the kitchen table
tabletime
I sat at the breakfast table with my four-year-old son,Matthew,trying to ignore the ache in my stomach."Mama,want to play?""Not today,baby,"I shook my head.These days I could barely get out of bed.I was still recovering from a surgery.I hoped for strength and happiness.But the future seemed so hopeless.
Suddenly,Matthew jumped up from his spot on the kitchen floor."Bird!"he shouted,rushing to our courtyard.Sure enough,there was a white dove seated in a rubber tree.It sat there for a few moments,and then flew away.Strange,I'd never seen one in our neighborhood before.
When I dragged myself to the kitchen the next morning,the dove was back.This time with a mate carrying twigs."Look,Matthew,"I said,pointing to the tree."They're going to make a nest."The doves flew in and out of the courtyard all week,building on top of the rubber tree.
Matthew could hardly contain his excitement.Every morning,he'd run into the kitchen and take his spot by the sliding glass door,talking to the birds while they worked.His enthusiasm was influential.As much as I was grieving,I couldn't help but look forward to the doves'visits too.
Then it all went wrong.The courtyard was a safe enough spot for a nest,but the rubber tree's broad,thin leaves were far from stable.One night,a strong wind blew,throwing the doves'nest to the ground.I heard the twigs break apart.
I surveyed the damage.Nothing good ever lasts.I wouldn't blame the doves if they never came back.But they returned.And they paid no attention to the pile of sticks that had once been their nest.They started again from scratch.Again,though,the wind destroyed all their hard work.The next day,and the next,they renewed their efforts,as if nothing had happened.

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