On the night before we left for Mexico we made French Toast for dinner, one of Vespera's favorite meals. She requested it, and it sounded so nourishing and sweet that we all agreed.
When I broke open the eggs, the last 3 had double yolks. I smiled quietly to myself. In July of 2006, a few months after she was placed with us, I made breakfast one morning and every single egg I broke open had a double yolk. (I posted about it here: New Meaning.) I don't know that it has any special meaning. And, yet, it brought me comfort on the night before our departure.
In retrospect, I see how every bit of our journey was doubled blessed, and we were cared for abundantly...double yolks, double nourishing for our minds, our spirits, our souls. The eggs were a reminder.