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    |   (           ,'   Normand Veilleux
    |   |           (    based on work by
    |   |           |       Tua Xiong
    |   |           |
    |   |___________|
    |   |      |    |

You remember one time when you told
your mother you were getting bullied at
school. Not by students, but by one of
the teachers. She scooped you up in her
arms and hugged you against her chest, her
perfume smelling like a storage unit. She
was wearing a shirt with flowers on it.
You loved her very much in that moment.

'Charles,' she said, then, 'It's not your
fault. Not really. You were born with, in
this place, a disadvantage. If we were back
in the old country this would not have happened.
Unfortunately, Charles, our hand was forced.
And now we are here. Where we can be alive.
You'll be good, yes? You won't do anything
back to them?'

Of course not, you'd said. I'm far too scared
to do something like that.

Your mother smiled, patting your head.
Scratching you behind your ears. 'You are more
powerful than you can possibly imagine.
Remember this, okay? So you can't hurt them
back. Because you can recover. But they
can't.

She's not always in such a good mood as she
was that day.But it makes you happy when she
is. You know she really does love you, even
on the days where she isn't very nice. It's
like she said--she never wanted to go to
this place. But now you're both here, and
you have to make the best of it. You may
be young, but you understand this. You
really do.

Even when you're afraid, you're still glad to see her.