I try not to react, but I must fail because Gabriel turns to look at me. __he world needs both butterflies and lions. One is not better than the other. They're both beautiful and brave in their own ways.__is hand covers mine as it fiddles with the blades of grass. __va._ I look up. __ do not wish you were a lion any more than I would have wished her to be a butterfly.

I'm a poet who has lost his words." He looks across the street, but not before I catch the dull glint of shame in his eyes."Where did you lose them?" I ask, gentling my tone.He turns back to me. When he speaks, his voice is so small that I have to lean closer to hear it. "The same place I lost myself.

All great adventures start with an idea.

Sometimes, all you can take are memoriesBut if you__e lucky enough to capture the moment,it lives forever, immortally fixed.

Anyone can take a picture of poverty; it__ easy to focus on the dirt and hurt of the poor. It__ much harder__nd much more needful__o pry under that dirt and reveal the beauty and dignity of people that, but for their birth into a place and circumstance different from our own, are just like ourselves. I want my images to tell the story of those people and to move us beyond pity to justice and mercy.

Things can__ mend without being broken.