Ann Bauer

In fall of 2010 our 20-year-old son showed up at our front door filthy, broke and terrified.

Earlier this week, I had some business with my son so I met him at an unfamiliar coffee shop in a rather gritty part of town.

There is a Taoist story about a wise, old farmer. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. “Such bad luck,” they said. ”Maybe,” the farmer replied. The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. “How wonderful,” the neighbors exclaimed. ”Maybe,” replied the old man.

John and I typically visit our older son, Andrew, on Sundays. We pick him up at the group home where he lives—about 20 miles from our home—and take him out for coffee. Sometimes we go on a walk, or shop together. Lately, John and Andrew have spent the time working math problems to prepare for the ACT.