I was sitting outside with my classroom of babies. Next to me was my sweet volunteer grandmother who comes daily to help hold babies. She’s a bodacious gorgeous elderly black woman who has my heart stuck to hers. We watched a biracial child in the next playground crying. A sweet blonde little girl came and hugged her. Another black little girl hugged both of them. They are about 3 and 4 years old. They consoled one another in the most empathetic humanitarian way.
My gramma and I started to cry. We began to talk about compassion. She said to me, “Now you know if them babies’ parents were here they might not be so loving with each other!”
“Oh, sweetheart, I hope you are wrong. I know kids don’t see colors. They see love and kindness. And those little girls have grown up in homes that have taught them to…
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