This one great act of love was shouted at us two thousand years ago, and still we catch the echoes. In the mother whose children's names are written across her forehead in wrinkles of concern, we hear an echo. In the father working well past the point of joy because he is a provider -- there is an echo. When the neighbor gives out of his own want to help a stranger pay a debt -- another. When the spouse forgives seventy times seven, you hear it again. Lean in, because the echoes don't always ring so loud after two thousand years, but they are there. Trace each note back to the source and you will find the breath that brought a world into being calling out its new start. And in every echo, hear a new start.