Recently I recalled a decades-old story that my mother told me. She arrived at a school to pick up my brother who had attended a class and was waiting outside for her. He was in a conversation with a classmate who was also waiting for a ride. My mother overhead the classmate ask my brother “How do you expect nations to get along if families can’t?”
That question still takes my breath away. I wonder what became of that young boy whom I have never met, and whose words are still with me.
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