Children

‘Every evening, I see the same tired woman waiting to cross the street with her 4 kids. She holds onto the ones she can, and they hold onto the ones she can’t. I’m fascinated by this woman and her tribe.’

“Even though I need to get myself home to my own four babes, often I’ll wait, not pulling out of the parking lot until they’ve safely made it across. If I didn’t, I would lay in bed at night and worry: Had they made it? Were they still waiting? Were they safe?”

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