Boy with a skinned knee

We stopped by a community to talk with the elders about a water project to help with their high rates of diarrhea and malnutrition. They pulled up wooden benches and I sat and listened while they discussed in Krio. A group of kids gathered around, giggling at me and tentatively touching my hair.

Just across from me, a little boy of about 2 years fell and scraped his knee. His hair was patchy and discolored and his stomach distended. He started crying, but the adults were talking and no one paid him attention. He sat down on a tree root, holding his knee with moist eyes and his face in a frown. Minutes later he was still upset and I watched as he rubbed his knee and wiped it with his shirt.

I know it is strange, but I was glad he was upset. I was glad because his crying and his frowning showed me that the pain in his life wasn't so bad that he didn't feel it anymore. His sadness showed me that at 2 years old, he hadn't given up.