Here is something you should know about me.  I’m not a crier, not really.  I do not cry about sad/bad things happening in my life.  Ever.  I didn’t cry when my mother died.  I’m not a hard-hearted Hannah, I just don’t cry about the big things.  I do, however, weep copiously when small children sing at school concerts.  I cry when I see a little person lost in the supermarket.  I cry when I see a balloon floating away in the sky.  I have been known to cry at that 1970s ad for some do-good organization that features a kid in group home writing a letter to Santa asking for a puppy.  Does anyone remember that ad?  One kid says “Santa won’t bring you a puppy!”  And then, the do-gooder volunteer/ Secret Santa/postal worker guy reads the letter.  On Christmas morning, the kid finds a puppy waiting for him.  Of course he does.  The look on his face?  Priceless.  The look on the pooh-poohing kid’s face?  Oh, the humanity!!