The Privilege of Having Soft Hands
My parents’ hands were the remnants of great struggle. Mine somehow remained untouched.
sine qua non
Slouching Towards BethlehemThe Sympathizer
More in this series
Papa left the summer I turned eight. The emotional toll of a wife who blamed him was too much to carry along with the burden of repatriating thousands of Filipino citizens.
Aug 07, 2018