I never thought I would want to have a family. I went my whole childhood without experiencing a deep need to play house or with baby dolls. I spent the majority of my teenage and college years trying not to get pregnant, and when I married at twenty-six (considered young these days), my husband and I were very much in agreement that children were not part of the forecast.

Then, on a sunny September morning, two airplanes struck the heart of New York and my world turned upside down. People who worked in office buildings, who had started their day very much in the same way I did plunged from their towers. I was fortunate not to know anyone directly affected by the attack, but it still left me reeling. It made me question just what my purpose should be, and what I had contributed to making the world a better place. I challenged many of my notions of control and destiny, and it opened my eyes to the true importance of family.I suspect I was not alone in these feelings.

Fifteen months later my son was born and I love him more than I could have possibly imagined. It is a bond like no other, beyond description, that only other parents can understand.

Fast forward three and a half more years and my boy got a sister – his true companion and foil – rounding out our small but loving family. She is a power packed dynamo full of passion and fire who is the perfect addition. Our love for her runs so deeply that I doubt she will ever understand its intensity.

Eleven years ago a terrible, horrible tragedy gave me one of the best opportunities of my life. From despair grew an awareness and hopefulness that changed my life drastically for the better.

This is considered the season of hope – where we celebrate change and goodness and most importantly love. It can bring out the best or the worst in us, depending on circumstance. My wish this year is that those who need love, find it. Those who have love, share it. And that we all live in the warmth of the light that goodness and hopefulness bring all year long.