I look upon each of the young, little faces. Some black, some white, some in between. All hurt and pleading to help them to their feet from the trip of life.

My eye catches a little black girl, who I would guess to be four or five. She’s curled up in a corner, playing with a rip in her jeans. Her hair is tangled together, but you can faintly see the attempt someone made to try to braid them. I’m still looking at her, but her eyes are stuck on the floor, reluctant to peek at me.

I walk up to her and lightly grab her hand. She cringes, and I see the cuts and bruises along her arm. Tears have formed, but she muffles her cries, knowing well enough not to make a sound.

“Hello hunny. What’s your name?”

She finally accepts my presence and looks at me, dead straight in the eye. “Llani.”

“That’s a beautiful name, for a beautiful girl. I can help you, I’m going to take you home, and I ask for one thing in return – I need you to trust me.”

I begin to reach my arms out, but she has already embraced me with a hug.