When I saw the picture of the boy on the news, smiling and covered in chocolate from a party in a celebration I'd never heard of, I didn't immediately think, “Oh, how interesting!” or “Goodness, lucky child!” My first thought was: that's my football club!
The jacket he wore, smudged and smeared with sweets, bore the unmistakable crest of my local football club. I have no idea how he came to have it, but in every picture, there it was, along with a poster of our starting forward on his empty bedroom wall. I called the photographer credited with the photo, and she told me the boy lived at an orphanage in the capital city. With a little detective work, I found out its address.
And I sent that boy every last team jersey, cap, sweatshirt, pajama bottom, teddy bear, and sock I had.
