When I was about 4, I was swinging on our porch one summer afternoon, and I heard something. I jumped down from the swing, walked out into the yard, got down on my hands and knees by the porch and peered into the darkness. I heard the sound again, and when my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw a kitten, a frightened, lonely, lost little kitten. I reached in and called to this poor creature and he came to me. I picked him up, cuddled him, gently petted and comforted him. The kitten graciously accepted my love and rewarded me a number of times with sweet meows. The moment was magical. It turned out that the kitten belonged to a family up on the hill, and they came and collected him later that evening. I wasn’t allowed to keep the kitten, and that disappointed me, but the magical moment was mine, and I have never forgotten it.