Christmas morning at the Rossi house looked like a United Nations meeting had collided with a toy store.

Elena's brothers had flown in from Guatemala with their families. Marcus and Elena, now six months pregnant, had driven up from their new house in Westchester. My father and Maria had arrived with enough presents to supply an orphanage. Uncle Antonio brought his grandchildren, who spoke a delightful mix of Italian and English.

"Mama," Solana whispered as we watched the chaos unfold, "I can ...