he is very sensitive, more sensitive than the others. he takes care of all the other children. and he sings to the little babies so they will go to sleep, it's very sweet to see.

i'm in fifth grade, he says to me proudly. but i know he is in that horrible school and they have taught him nothing. and the other children call him stupid, and then he gets into fights with them. because he is not at all stupid like they think him.

he was hit by a car when he was little. and now he has a problem remembering things, sometimes. teach me how to draw that letter, he says, and when i do, his face lights up. his bigbig heart blooms. he would do that, this child, he would bloom, his big big heart would bloom and not break like it is doing now. oh yes, i love them all, he too is my favorite, this child.

everytime i leave he gets tears in his eyes. looks away but then there they are.