The youth with the wonky eye

Yesterday I met three different students. One cried, one apologized and one folded my baguette in half.

The one who cried was 30 years old and had just been told he'd badly failed. But he didn't cry because he failed, it was because of the reason. Three pressures demanded his attention: seminary studies, the pastoral work of his church and his two young children. And his life was starting to fall apart.

The second student has a moustache and normally looks as if he's in the dentist's Waiting Room. He apologized to me for having to miss our next class. He was being sent by his denomination to a part of Colombia where a new guerrilla group was threatening local pastors. Documents had to be prepared to seek their defense.

In Colombia you don't pack your own shopping, usually a helper does it for you and then carries it to your car or taxi with the anticipation of a tip. The third person was one of these as well as being an electrical engineering student. He was a short youth with a wonky eye. And he folded my French baguette to pack it.

Everyone has their own story to tell: you and me, too.


Photo: We all have an interesting story to tell

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