My Dad was telling me this story today about how a little kid in his class wrote Parker a letter saying how thankful he was that Parker played with him. No one else played with him. So my Dad asked why no one played with him, Parker replies: "I don't know!" He couldn't understand why no one wanted to play with this little boy, "...but, he's going to have an Afro one day!"
My Dad ponders this silly saying and asks, "Oh, so he's black?"
Parker James says "Yeah!"
My little Brother, Parker James. Befriended a black child in his class, he was an "outcast" because he was the only one. Parker paid NO mind to that, and he plays with him.
This little boy, wrote Parker a Thank You letter.
If that isn't precious, I don't know WHAT is!
Yep! That's my baby boy... the one who was deathly ill the first two years of his life. I believe the compassion he instills to others is a direct result of understanding suffering in its most frustrating form.
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