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Born through two Russian children,
Justin began life as an unwelcome mat.
Orphaned, he rocked himself to sleep.
The Doctors masqueraded as angels.
The Nurses substituted for mothers.

He was delivered from that gloom,
stolen through the darkness,
spirited across the ocean,
planted in the valley,
liberated into our open arms.

Morning birds chip away the silence.
Raindrops tap-dance on windowsills.
Pine trees skate in the wind.
Daddy is cooking in the kitchen.
Brother is preparing for school.

Upstairs there is serenity.
With lullabies on her lips,
Woodstock Mama surrounds her son.
Their breaths are synchronized
in harmony with God.