I think back to myself in fourth grade . . .
If you had asked me to identify the Philippines on a map, I would not have known where to point–not even remotely. And if you had told me when I was nine years old that there was a terrible storm in this part of the world and people were suffering, I might have felt sad; but then, pretty quickly, I would have recovered, poured myself a bowl of cereal, and plopped down in front of the television with my Barbies or, possibly, a book.
I certainly wouldn’t have envisioned there was anything I could do.
And there is the first difference between my nine-year-old self and this amazing nine-year-old boy I get to call my son.
When we talked recently about the devastation in the Philippines, Oscar felt what he felt–what all of us felt and feel. He was…
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