A Catapult

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Once upon a time… there was an 8-year-old little village boy —

— who taught me more about food… in a hungry village… than anyone else.

This eight-year-old — might as well have been a food biology professor.

He understood his environment, and what it could produce, and the conditions which fed him.

The boy was a double-orphan, and although his grandmother was alive, she was feeble and could not feed him.

Still, he thrived.

What fed him?

Not a fork, and certainly not a silver spoon,

— but a catapult — a sling-shot, which he wore around his skinny brown neck.

It was made of a tire which was cut into strings,

— and wrapped around a stick of the village hardwood, shaped like a wishbone.

He would go outside, and find small birds,

— aiming carefully with just a small granite stone.

His shot was clear, but his heart was also compassionate.

He would roast his dinner over simple fire.

Sometimes I think that this child is one of the smartest, and most compassionate in the world.

He is empowered.

I am afraid to write a post called, “How to Make a Catapult” — but — I am considering a post explaining, “How He Made a Catapult” and reduce all liability.

Pictured: One of the village boys made me a tambourine, knowing that I would not kill the birds, out of bottle caps smashed flat with granite rocks, and wire similar to the catapult this eight year old boy survived by.

Author: Ada Nicole

A human rights worker in developing nations.

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