I once saw a little boy, an orphan, staggering on the streets, covered with dirt and scratches. Old kids, bullies, saw him and started beating him up. He only smiled.
The boy didn't say anything, he just took the beatings and smiled at the attackers. Maybe that was how he delt with life, slapping on a forced smile, never letting someone close to him so that they couldn't hurt him emotionally.
Physical pain, you could always stand it, but things that hurts you emotionally, was worse than acid burning and tear away your skin. It is like an icy claw that grips your heart, piercing it in a slow and painful manner.
So I ran up and told the three older kids off, and hugged the boy, telling him that I would take him to the hospital and get him treated.
He shook his head, saying that he isn't that important, telling me that his situation wasn't urgent, begging not to take him there since there were people who are in a half dead state, needing the doctors much more than him.
I respected his decision, so I gave him some chocolate that I had in my pocket, and watched him smile and walked further down the road of pain. And I knew.
I knew someday, there would be a paradise waiting for him at the end of the road.
I never saw that boy again. But I am sure, that he is in a place where he could feel his mother's embrace again
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