After 6 miscarriages, my wife finally gave birth to the daughter we prayed for — 18 years later, she sobbed, “Dad, you have no idea what Mom did”

although age had changed her.

When she saw Avery, she stood slowly.

Neither woman moved for a few seconds.

Then Noelle covered her mouth.

“You look like my mother.”

Avery began crying.

“You wrote every year?”

Noelle nodded.

“Every birthday.”

“You never stopped?”

“Not once.”

Avery crossed the lobby and hugged her.

I turned away because that moment didn’t belong continue reading …