Hatem is just starting to grow a mustache. He’s pimply. He’s shy and a tiny bit awkward in conversation. But he meets my eye every time I ask a question. His answers are short, but sure.
At 15 years old, he’s in that slice of in-between time, when boys’ bodies start to take the shape of men. We can now see in him growing into the adult he’s going to be. And we are left weak at the knees with gratitude.