They’re from Sierra Leone West Africa. The country of cosmic beautifulness and terrible poorness. Andrew, Mary, and some other kids. My good buddy’s nephews. Today they live a hard life like in general in Africa.
It was a breathtaking story of his coming back home from cold Russia, where we struggled for his freedom. So, his name’s Solomon, and I wrote about him numerously. He sent me short messages every day, three-time a day, for almost five years. He names me Father, and it touches the heartstrings.