They stand, staring at the camera, eyes with sadness, sometimes anger that comes from deep within. Arms, legs, are twig thin and bellies swollen, paradoxically, from lack of food.
Mostly naked and living in trees to keep from being a meal for the hyenas, they huddle together to survive. Where do five-year olds learn to survive? How do the older ones know how to care for the younger?
Where does their hope come to make it through another day?
For these dark images I do apologize, but I have been in touch with a friend who is a missionary in Sudan.
She fights on the front lines to keep women from being inventory in human trafficking. She provides loving arms of a mother, food and clean clothing to the orphans left behind. She is the point at which fear becomes fearless, and brave is what you put on like a blouse each day.
Her name is Kimberly, she is my hero, and my definition of Brave.