My gardner is twelve if he is anything. He seems very sweet and hard working. I finally asked him his age and he assured me he was twenty-five years old. Well, at least I can let myself off the hook for any possible violations of child labor laws. I don't know if they have child labor laws in Nigeria, but I do. I mean, I have some child labor boundaries and values that I am not willing to violate. In any case, it is a moot point and I'm glad.

His name is Monday and I found out that he has a 7 year old child. "It happened while I was in school, Madam," he said. I'm not really sure of the mores of fathering a child out of wedlock here in Nigeria so I asked him if this was okay with him and with the mother.

"Well, I have been near my son and his mother and we have been together, but we have quarreled and now she has moved away. I don't see them as often."

I could see that he was sad and told him I understood. He told me his friends tell him not to think about it. Being the queen of emotional intelligence, however, I let him know it is okay to be sad and that I know I would be if I could not be with my children. His eyes filled with tears and he hung his head. My eyes filled with tears too and we just stood for a minute.

That all happened yesterday and today when Monday came, I invited him into the house. I brought him upstairs to a room in which I keep a big box of books. My daughter collected them from children at her upper class, private school and I brought them in our annual shipment to give to the children here.

Monday was thrilled. I asked him if he thought his son would like some books and he said he thought he would. "His mother reads to him and I could read to him when I see him again."

I helped him with the book selection and chose some of my favorites; Charlotte's Web, A Wrinkle in Time and a non-fiction book with fables from Africa. I wanted his son to have pictures to see in the pages that reflected his skin color and an environment not so foreign to him. I think both are important: the opportunity to see something completely outside of your own culture and to imagine the possibilities for yourself as well as to know that you are not alone and to have your own culture reflected in print.

This gift to Monday is so small, but gave him such joy. I feel almost selfish feeling so good about

offering this small token to him for his son. I want to do more, but am trying to be satisfied with these small gestures of kindness that I am able to offer.

I am grateful today for the ability to do this. I look forward to Monday sharing with me his experience in reading to his son and to know if he liked the story.