Ours was a sweet, comfy home nest that for 21 years nurtured our family of four kids and lots of pets as well as visiting friends and family.  It also provided temporary housing for many hard-working young students who are now parents, doctors, nurses, etc., all on their life path to helping others.
    At the front entrance to this home hung a small wooden plant swing from the roof edge in which was ensconced a dove nest.  Every year, in the spring season, the mother dove would sit implacably on this nest over her two eggs until they hatched.  Soon afterward the entire dove family would fly away, only to reappear in the spring.
    Then the fire came and destroyed our home, all our treasures inside and our complacency.  We were so fortunate to be able to reach the youngest child, 14-year-old Lauren, just in time to get her (and her precious dogs) out safely.  Unable to save anything else, we were left homeless and very underinsured, at the mercy of our kind friends to support us through the recovery process.  We are still very sad, sleeping fitfully through nightmare dreams.  When will this mourning period end?  Will we be able to rebuild our permanent address home?
    Several days after the fire I returned to the still-smouldering ashes that had been our nest.  I paced around it, poking through things, brushing aside mounds of destruction, looking for anything salvageable.  No, there was nothing left to recover except fond memories in the distant future.
    As I was leaving our front porch, my foot tripped over an object caught in the roots of the huge oak tree that had canopied our home.  There it was, nestled within the tree roots, rocks, ashes and leaves--the dove nest in the plant swing!  It alone had survived the horrendous inferno, where everything else around it had been destroyed.  How it survived, I don't know.  And so shall we, because our hope has not been destroyed, and our home nest wil reappear, maybe in the spring.
 
Maria Macduff, M.D.