The Voice of a Man
I am simply a man like any other. As the sun rises every day over the Himalayan Mountains of Tibet that I have come to call home, I cook a breakfast of eggs over a fire of sweet-smelling cedar logs. Every evening, I pull down the door of my shop and count the day's earnings that always seem to be just enough. There is much to be grateful for. Even as I walk down streets littered with trash, I look for the flowers creeping out of the cracks in the sidewalk to brighten my day. When I stumble and fall over the obstacles in life, I do not let it break my spirit. It is this spirit that I cradle in my arms like a baby, new from its mother's womb. For now as I write this, my spirit is coming under attack. China can take my family, my culture and my identity away from me, but I refuse to give up my spirit. My spirit is what makes me a man, a man like any other indeed.
