Iwasdoingabigclean-upandmykidswerehelping.Oneofmysonscameacrossahandkerchiefofminewithacoininside.Itookonelookandwasimmediately   toanothertime．
In1991，IhadspentfivemonthsinViger(尼日尔)，ahotAfricancountry.ThereweremanythingsIfound      aboutthisplace—theclimateandbeggarswho      shouted“Cadeau!Cadeau!”Itmeansgift．
One     wasalotworse．Oneday，afriendandIheadedforneighboringBurkinaFasotoworkinahealthclinic．However，amotorbikewithtwomen     slowly．Withoutwarning，oneofthemen    mybackpackasthemotorbikesweptcloseby．Thebaghadmypassport，money，anairlineticketandotherthingsprecioustome．Iwasindeep     ．IntheweeksthatfollowedIlookedatall  withsuspicion.
AllIwantedwastoleavethisplace．Oneday，Iwasstoppedbyanoldwoman“Cadeau!”shecried.I’dhadenough!Iwassickandtiredofthecountry．Itoldherfirmly，“AthiefstoleallmymoneyandnowIcan’tgetoffyourcountry.”Thebeggarwomanlistenedcarefullyand    mywords．
“ThenIwillgiveyouacadeau,”sheannounced．Kindly，sheplacedanoldbrowncoininmypalm.Ilookedatit  ．Livinginpoverty，shegavemesomethingpriceless!Isawthenthe    beautyofthepeopleofBurkinaFasoand   deeplythequietdignityofthesmallcoin；sheturnedmyperceptionsupsidedown．