I spent the day down in Laberinto, Peru, again. I walked all over the city, hanging out with Dominga and chatting with kids from the local school. I talked with a couple of the boys from the school for about 20 minutes. They were asking me all sorts of questions about The States, "Do you like Donald Trump," "Is it hot in Georgia?"
I asked the kids the question - "If you could be anything in this world when you grow up, what would it be?" One kid said an athlete - one said a doctor - and another said a mathematician. I loved their responses. But, as the conversation moved forward, each kid echoed the same thought - "I'll probably be a miner."
I thought about this for a good five minutes, staring off into the field. The kids kept talking to me, but I couldn't hear them. I had them blocked out.
Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. The youngest of the boys says to me, "I want to give you a gift."
He hands me a mirror.
He probably didn't think much of the mirror or its potential symbolism, but I have. This small 3 x 2 mirror with a green case on the back will always hold a special place in my heart.
To me, it means two things:
1. Never forget who I am.
2. Change begins with the man in the mirror.