Desperately Seeking George!

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I was heading home in a late night Uber. My driver, Moses, mentioned he was from Uganda. I professed my deep love and appreciation for African people. His eyes got wide and he smiled and asked me why? Hmmm good question…I guess, because most of those that I had met had overcome great adversity and struggles and it had become woven into the fabric of who they were. There was so much pride and work ethic and respect and dignity and I just felt a connection, no explanation beyond that. I guess this answer released something in Moses because he pulled over a half a block from my house and spent 22 minutes telling me his story. He grew up in a village and no one had a vehicle. When his mother was ready to deliver him they had to bike over to another town to find someone with a car to return and bring her to the hospital. They were too late and he was born in the field. He told me about their extreme poverty and how he had no shoes and when there were special occasions his mother would go to the neighbour to borrow shoes from a boy named George. And then he cried and said he wished he could find George to thank him.

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