My husband, Mark, worked in microfinance a couple years ago. Periodically he’d be gone for a couple weeks at a time, traveling to countries on the other side of the world. This seemed like eternity, especially to our children. They love their daddy and his absence was torture to their hearts.

The homecomings were awesome. They’d help clean the house and made sure I was planning a big meal for him. When it was time to head to the airport Anastasia would put on her prettiest outfit and Noah his coolest shirt. They wanted his homecoming to be special.

At the airport we’d wait outside of security, look through the glass doors and randomly check the status of his flight. They'd see Mark walk around the corner and a surge of excitement would rush through their bodies causing involuntary jumping up and down.