India’s daughter

In utter chaos, between missiles and airstrikes; refugees and war; drugs and abuse; danger and darkness. There lay a hospital in a small city of India. Clean white tiles and the smell of hygiene reeked from the newly built four walls. Overwhelmed by tears, friends and family rejoiced around the little ball of beauty that … Continue reading India’s daughter

The little boy

I saw a little boy today. He wasn’t someone special, if anything he was strangely ordinary. His hair seemed as though they could use a good wash yet were neatly tucked away from his face. A dark skin tone characterized by patches of dirt on his body; and ragged clothes that had been repeatedly worn … Continue reading The little boy