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The woman’s doorbell rang. She glanced up from the novel she was reading. She wondered who could be at her door at 9:00 at night. She stood up and looked out her window. There was no one at her door. She yawned and went back to her chair, opened the book to the page she was on, and began reading again. She had barely read a paragraph when her doorbell rang again. She yanked open the door, only to find that, for the second time that night, no one was there. She happened to glance down as she turned to lock her door. The woman stopped. On her doorstep was a basket. She picked it up, wondering what it could be. A tiny hand waved from within. It was a baby girl! She was fast asleep. The woman brought the basket inside her house and laid the baby on her bed. She realized that the small girl was tightly clutching something in her miniature fist. It was a piece of paper. The woman unrolled it. It said, in bold, semi-neat handwriting:



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