Usha Jesudasan
Daughter of Grace
A mass of multicolored bougainvillea acts as curtain between me and a group of children playing hopscotch on the cemented gray floor. Seeing me, they abandon their game and skip over. I am enveloped by tiny hands wanting to hold mine. Laughing faces gaze up into my face; warm little bodies hug around my knees and I am overwhelmed. I really do...
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