As we left early one morning, a month or so ago running late for a scouting event, there was an odd creature trying to make it's way across our busy road, a baby opossum. It looked so lost and helpless; white and pink , nocturnal eyes straining to see in the daylight. We couldn't stop and I felt a maternal loss, a kind of abandonment of the animal. We live on the side of town where birds of prey tend to congregate. It wouldn't survive those birds, if it survived any number of cars that travel our road. When we returned several hours later there wasn't a hint of what happened to it. I could only guess but in the end, nature takes care of the order of things.  Babies die everywhere, and while I could feel a distant sadness, in truth, we watch children die every day on the news with detachment in order that the wealthy remain wealthy, be it for oil, "health care" reform, or pure apathy, all the while it is the animal shelters, and the pet food companies, and the animal rights activist who get the air time.  How many mothers must watch their babies die before this boat we are all in together gets up-righted?