It’s a deliberate act, switching off the lights to bring in the cake. The joy on her face glows brighter in candlelight.
Those first couple of years she couldn’t shape her lips and blow, but in time she learned. Each of the ten candles today marks a road less travelled, every step hand in hand with her extra chromosome, her companion for life.
Where once the candles were lit partly in mourning—a grace to the child that never was—today they blaze and dance like the child herself, singing “Happy Birthday to me!” at the top of her glorious voice.