Let's just say that you're walking the streets of downtown Duluth at 10:30 on a Thursday evening. You just left Old Chicago and are going to take a stroll on the boardwalk before returning home for the night. There's nothing unusual about your walk until you spot a small child, about 10 years old walking on the boardwalk, alone. Immediately you search for parents but there are none in site. Your heart leads you to child because you feel he is in distress, you must try to find his parents. So you begin a conversation with him-What are you doing on the street? Where is your family? and the routine stops there. The answer to your last question is that, 'They're dead.' If you have any sort of heart, it is now lying on the ground and is being crushed by a 10 ton truck. You've completely lost your bearings. What are you going to do now? 'What do you mean you have no family,' you ask. Do you have brothers or sisters, an aunt or uncle?' 'No,' he simply replies. 'No, me.' (Just me) In Duluth you wouldn't hesitate to take the boy home, confident you would find a solution to his lack of family, because there is no way that such a young child would have no family in the world that he can call his own.

In Addis Ababa, it is the norm for all children walking the streets alone barefoot with ragged clothes to be parentless. Imagine just for a moment that you are living in a place where you can walk the streets for 10 minutes and within that time have a trail of followers 10 or maybe 15 deep of orphaned children following you. It happens to me all the time. The question is, do you accept it as a norm? Or do you allow yourself to love and help as many as you can? Sadly, most people do the former, but tonight, I couldn't.

Around 10:30 PM I was walking to the office after a fabulous traditional meal. I needed to pick up a few items I have bought earlier in the day for my new house. As I reached within a few blocks of the building I spotted a small boy in ragged, dirty, cut-off green sweatpants, a torn shirt and sandals. As with the scenerio describe above he was alone. And his eyes told of his story. Though I have grown accustomed to hearing children of the street tell me they have no family. It never becomes any less shocking and heartbreaking when it comes from their tiny mouths. All of the pain hidden in their words when they say they have no one. No one to love them, to hold their hand, to caress their heads and kiss them goodnight. No one.

After speaking with Kalifa for a few minutes we had arrived at my office though I couldn't do much I knew that I could something. Wait here, ishi (okay?) Ishi. Wait here, I'll be back. Ishi. I made my way to the office and picked up the items I had bought earlier, including a limited amount of food. As I made my way back to where Kalifa was waiting for me I knew that I had to do more than simply provide him food. I couldn't be one of those people who could return home that same evening and enjoy a night of calm and warmth in my bed after deserting such a child.

After I knelt down and gave him the bread and kiwi I had stashed in my bag I tried to convey to him what I wanted to do to help him, if he was willing. We the help of a translator that happened to arrive at just the right moment, I conveyed to Kalifa that I would like to help him find a home. That it is a long process, but I may be able to assist him with the legal process and then afterward, find a placement.

He agreed with a smile on his face and hands full of food. We agreed to meet tomorrow morning at the same place, so I could provide him with his meal for the day and that we would meet everyday until I found him a home.

Perhaps you are wondering why I didn't take him home with me? Believe me I wish I could and for some people it is difficult to understand. However, if I were to take Kalifa home with me, it would be temporary. Though I know that it would be such, he may not understand that he would have to leave at some point to another home or, if I fail, back to the streets. For a young child who has lost everything he ever loved, and more specifically the figures who provided him with love, it would be devastating for him to lose another caregiver. I am aware of my limitations as a young adult and a person just starting out in a new country. For me to believe that I could support him in the way he needs to be supported would be delusional. But I am doing what I can. And I will continue to not normalize such experiences and aid these children in any way possible.