In the teeming checkout area of the DeKalb Farmers Market on a Sunday Morning, a curly-headed toddler galloped through the crowd, calling out: “I’m here! I’m here!”
A man I took to be her father, amused and slightly harried, followed a few steps behind.
“I’m here!”
I supposed she was on her way to – and trying to get the attention of – another adult at the other end of the room.
“I’m here! I’m here!”
But I thought, yes, child, you are here!
Here you are! Welcome!
And I thought, it may be that I’m just like you.
I’m here! I’m here!
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