The boy on the right is a 6th grader. He arrived in Portland four years ago, straight from a refugee camp, minimal schooling, no English. Within a year or two, he was something of a summer reading champion at the local library. The boy on the left is nine. He’s only just arrived in America. The only other world he knows is that of a refugee camp. He’s learning his alphabet now. And his numbers too. And who better to teach him than another child who knows exactly where to begin.
Saturday morning never felt so warm.