This is Miles. He’s 22 months old. His mother left him with her mother along with his 3-month-old sister. His father was one of the many Detroit murder victims in July this year. Their rented house in Detroit is clean and sparsly furnished. There is a Christmas tree, but no gifts. Their car, which needs to be fixed, is parked in the garage. His aunt and uncle, who are 16 and 17, walk about a mile to school each day without winter jackets; he wrestles, her favorite subject is biology. You’ll read Mile’s grandmother’s story tomorrow, along with stories of others in need throughout this season. It’s easy to jump to conclusions about why people are where they are from where you stand. But when I stand in their homes and listen, I feel a bit helpless that all I do is take their photo and hope that from this moment, things will get better. Wouldn’t that be a great way for Miles to start his second year of life?
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