Iwasdoingabigclean-upandmykidswerehelping.Oneofmysonscameacrossahandkerchiefofminewithacoininside.Itookonelookandwasimmediately toanothertime.In1991,IhadspentfivemonthsinViger(尼日尔),ahotAfricancountry.ThereweremanythingsIfound aboutthisplace—theclimateandbeggarswho shouted“Cadeau!Cadeau!”Itmeansgift.One wasalotworse.Oneday,afriendandIheadedforneighboringBurkinaFasotoworkinahealthclinic.However,amotorbikewithtwomen slowly.Withoutwarning,oneofthemen mybackpackasthemotorbikesweptcloseby.Thebaghadmypassport,money,anairlineticketandotherthingsprecioustome.Iwasindeep .IntheweeksthatfollowedIlookedatall withsuspicion.AllIwantedwastoleavethisplace.Oneday,Iwasstoppedbyanoldwoman“Cadeau!”shecried.I’dhadenough!Iwassickandtiredofthecountry.Itoldherfirmly,“AthiefstoleallmymoneyandnowIcan’tgetoffyourcountry.”Thebeggarwomanlistenedcarefullyand mywords.“ThenIwillgiveyouacadeau,”sheannounced.Kindly,sheplacedanoldbrowncoininmypalm.Ilookedatit .Livinginpoverty,shegavemesomethingpriceless!Isawthenthe beautyofthepeopleofBurkinaFasoand deeplythequietdignityofthesmallcoin;sheturnedmyperceptionsupsidedown.