Dear Son of Mine:
I paused for a moment from feverishly writing away to finish my analysis of a far away place called Afghanistan. I wanted to see what you looked like on this very day a year ago. When I came across this photograph I took, I remember instantly the feeling I had when seeing that smile creep across your face. What joy within your soul, and thus mine, as well!
While I deeply regret not being able to take care of your every whim and need lately, you are why I do what I do. I hope by studying and working to make places such as a Afghanistan better that you never have to live in such abject conditions. A nation where...
(1) the GDP is $800 per capita
(2) there is a 35% unemployment rate (and we thought America was in an economic slump)
(3) 153 out of 1000 babies do not live
(4) only 28.1% of the people are literate
(5) and there are astoundingly high rates of major infectious diseases running rampant.
I do hope when you grow up, you realize that we truly are the lucky ones. And most of all, I hope you do your part for humanity to ensure even one less person has to suffer in such conditions. You, my son, are among the most privileged to be able to call yourself an American. With that honor also comes a heavy price.
Love to you forever and ever,
Your Mommy
