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The Heart of the World
Sofia, Age 11, Basque Country, Spain

This could take for ever. The teacher drones on and on like a radio, her voice buzzing in the class.

The children pretend to listen, their eyes sad and empty, shining like glass.

And as the warm sun enters through the window, my eyes droop, and tears leak.

Why? Because I can see. I can see things you can't see. I can see a child, his eyes cold, full with hurt. His skin is not white, or black. It is not brown or yellow. It is not golden or silver. It is grey.

he child is sitting in a corner, his grey skin gleaming in the moonlight. His eyes are dark and empty, but I can feel the pain and sadness in those big, fearful eyes.

Who is that child, that cannot speak? It cannot cry, or shout, or scream. Its heart hides the pain, but no one knows. No one cares.

The Child is the Heart of the world. The Heart that sees the world, that guards the people under its watchful eye. The Heart cares for everyone, but no one cares for him. That is why the Heart is sad.

The Heart sees everyone as an equal. Black and white, brown and yellow, Jew and Christian, all the same under the Heart's eye. But why is he unhappy? Because the world is sad, everyone is mad, and bad. 

No one cares.

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