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Through the Eyes of a Child

He's six. Told me last night that he'd draw a portrait of me when he got home. This morning I was handed a piece of paper, upon which was a pretty accurate graphic portrayal of who I was.
I've never had a portrait done before. Being rather camera-shy, I've few photographs of myself, save the few taken when Dad had an interest in photography, and when I was too young to know what a camera was.
I feel honoured, and very privileged that a child would take the time to draw me. I've made up my mind to frame up the picture, and it almost brings me to tears just to know that my life – however small it is – has affected another.
Kids don't lie when they draw. I look into the mirror. I don't think my ears are that big, but I could be wrong.
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