There is a boy, about 14 years old. Shy lad with a soft voice and a little hunch, like he is trying to disappear between his shoulders lest someone spots him. He barely speaks but when he does, he speaks calmly with a sense of control on his carefully measured words. He once told he me his hobby was reading so I started getting him books to read. I love reading myself and I have hundreds of books that a young boy, his age, will enjoy. Each day, I used to check with him whether he liked the book from yesterday. He would shyly nod his head. I would nudge…