June 29th, 2009 6:00pm I am remembering a little boy I watched in Kabul several years ago. He was the housekeeper's son. He played joyeously in the courtyard while his mother cleaned the rooms. He had no toys, no music, no video games ... just his imagination. He danced through the trees and the rose bushes. He seemed to be the image of hope and laughter and love. I wonder where he is now. I hope he is still happy.
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