“I want to be a teacher,” she said. And in the neatness of her braid, the primness of her posture, the clarity of her speech, you could tell she wanted to be a teacher. Every child I met that day, had such hopes and aspirations for their future. They, who would probably leave this room and wander the streets till dusk, braving dangers I could never imagine, never having a home to return to because their parents needed to work every single minute of the day simply for them to survive. Children are so alive with hope, a stethoscope around …