One warm summer morning, humidity obscured the rising sun as I stood at the top of the driveway. Lending its shade, my tree caught my attention as if to warn me. I inched closer. With bent knees and my rear end sticking out, I squatted to get a better look at the curb encircling its trunk. I stepped to the curb into the dim spot, knowing if I could get closer to the ground, I could focus better. My once-warm body cooled, and goose bumps crept up my arms. I'm not sure if my reaction was due to my cooling in the shade or the ignition of adrenaline anticipating what was to come. Excerpted from Under the Birch Tree: A Memoir of Discovering Connections and Finding Home by Nancy Chadwick All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.