This is not such a happy story, like the one I posted before. But it deals with a real happening, something that happened to me and marked me forever. I was in my junior year as as student of Journalism and I had to do a feature at a special hospital for children with AIDS. My professor said I just had to "get the basic facts, how many kids there, how many dead the last year, you get it all from the nurses". But I knew I couldn't do just that. So, I took all my pocket money and bought sweets and toys for the kids. After getting "my basic facts", I went to see them. They were so little, and so lovely! For one moment, I couldn't beleieve they were sick. But they were. Sick and alone, and being alone hurt them more than the illness in itself. Many of them were abandoned there by their own parents. Oh, no, those canmot be called "parents". Parents love their children and are there for them, especially when they are ill. Some children were just recently admitted and were still in good shape, able to run around and play. They all came to me, and clang to me like they would never let me go. I gave them all I had brought for them. It is not that which made them happy, but the fact that I stood there with them, played with them, told them stories. And then, there were the very sick children. A baby girl of just 18 months, fighting for every heartbeat and for every breath. She lies in her little bed half unconsciouns, hooked to so many machines you wonder how can they all probe her tiny body. A boy of 11, Dany, with an intelligent forehead and clear blue eyes. By the best estimates, he has about half a year left. He tugs at my sleeve and asks seriously: "Do you happen to know, after I die I still have to go to school and do homework? I don't like Maths." I bit my lips, I didn't want to cry in front of that boy. All the rest of the day I couldn't write a word for my assignment. I kept thinking about those children, sick and alone and unloved. I still do... I visited the hospital at Christmas time with gifts. The baby girl and Dany were no more. So, I dedicate this story to them and to all the little angels whom God took to Him so early in their lives. I dedicate it to all the children who suffer and who died because of the stupidity of us adults. Please, forgive us, for we don't know what we are doing.