Sitting around the breakfast table last year, I read through the story of the Annunciation with my children. We paused at the illustration and took in the details. Dirt floor. No windows. I asked, “Does this look like a poor person’s house or a rich person’s house?
As I stared at the crowds amassed around our holy family, it occurred to me that with our first child, other than the occasional comment on our parenting and her stranger glare reserved demeanor, we were pretty much left alone as parents to sink or float.
“The Triumph of the Innocents” reframes the story. Ultimately, Herod lost.