Mimi Muir

day of my life” or “Are you an angel?” fterwards, the girls begged to take photos on my camera and were baffled when I showed them their photo in the viewer lens. Each time we took a group picture and I looked away, the girls all ran their hands in my hair and giggled. The girls loved asking me about what my country was like and what I aspired to be—many of them dreamt of becoming lawyers and doctors. I was amazed and humbled by their curiosity.

At one specific school where resources were minimal, and students ate from a communal bean pot, I realized just how selfless these people were. Four or five young girls grabbed me by the hand and dragged me to the front of the dinner line. They picked up the cooking pot, filled it up with half of the school’s food, which supported a few hundred students, and