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But These Teenagers and This Toddler Are Languishing in a Government Holding Facility in Texas

Here, I've written a story.

A Guatemalan baby--because a toddler can't be called boy--is handed over indoor cyclone fencing into the arms of three Honduran and Guatemalan teenage girls. They don't know his name. They've never seen his face before. In fact the girls just met one another, along with two hundred and fifty other children, since they came into to this building hoping for respite, hoping to be reunited with their mothers and fathers in a few short hours or days, hoping that the long and dangerous journey on foot and bus from another continent will resolve with a flood of relief, hope. But now, this baby claims their attention as the endless days drag on.  He demands someone to attend to his cries, arms uplifted as he searches their legs and then their eyes over and over to see if any of them resemble his mother. Over days and weeks--who knows really?--the girls settle into a listless routine of caring for the baby that came with no diapers and no change of cl…

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