He had curious brown eyes, chubby cheeks, and dark hair. He was probably about seven or eight years old. I will call this boy Nate. This little boy changed my outlook on life today. He did not intend to, of course, but he did in the best of ways.
The first time my little brother saw my wrist was at dinner. It was a hot day, I was wearing short sleeves since the tissue had healed over. He asked me what happened--my heart stopped. I looked down at my left arm. I had forgotten my bracelets.