One day as I was walking down the street, I saw a little boy.
This boy could only have been about five years old. I stopped to talk to him.
He had long black hair, a shy smile but an intensity I have not come across in many adults.
Even although he was shy, when he spoke he did so with enormous conviction and self confidence. I could not help but admire his beauty, potential and character.
He was a sweet boy, hanging onto his mother’s dress, not so much for protection but for reassurance that he could be himself.
The boy knew no fear, no self doubt or failure.
As I looked at this pure creature I knew that he could not hide from these things forever and that he would have to face them sooner or later in his life.
I hoped that he could face these evils and prevail over them.
I wished that he could remain as pure and untainted as he was.
I wished that he could remain as innocent as he was in that moment, forever.
As I walked away I shed a tear.
Because I once met a boy and
The boy was me….