The One
For the chance that one day they won’t flinch when someone raises their voice, or tremble when someone drops a cup too loudly.
I hand out the rest of the food slowly, one piece at a time, making sure each of them gets something, even though I know it won’t be enough to keep them full. But it is something. A moment of kindness. A small thread of humanity pulled from the wreckage of everything else.
One of the boys looks up at me, crumbs on his chin, and whispers something so soft I almost don’t hear it.
“Thank you,” he says with all the manners he can muster.
Bab Populer