I am writing this on Thanksgving, in the wake of the death of a good friend and that of mystery writer P. D. James. Sometimes I read the news and wonder why we bother getting out of bed in the morning. Then I remember that there is always hope. This rogues' gallery is the next generation, all born between 2004 and 2014. Many of them will live into the 22nd century. These are the small blessings that can make the world a better place. So I get up and do what I can to help them. ps, they all look much better now. But I am fascinated by the puzzled look so many newborns have. I keep wondering if they had expected to be sent to another planet.