Last day for this trip, that is. Whether or not you plan to return to somewhere or not, I think foreign countries have a way of sucking you in, especially if you meet it’s children. How could I not pledge my return at the faces of so many big white smiles from around my hips as clammy hands grab my arms and say “Auntie, why? When coming back? Auntie, so sad!” So I told them I will return, though I know not when. And had it just been the Indian countryside asking me this question, maybe I could have restrained and said ” I am not sure that your mosquitos and palm trees and mangoes have tempted me enough to promise return.” But in the face of children that one has let into the heart, there is no chance for no’s. They will grow so much, and if I am able to return in a year to dance and share and laugh and grow with with them again, they be only that much more wise and joyful and loving. What I can’t bear is that I would never again see the faces of these bright souls I have treasured so deeply. They are not merely kids. They are kids who have no REASON to be sweet and kind and giving. They have been given little by India, and their caste will continue to shove them into a corner. But they DO give of themselves, not realizing that their love is more valuable than all the rupees they can earn, and that their education is the foundation for changing the world. I can do nothing but love them and pray to and with all gods and goddesses that I will see them again.