She had prayed so long her knees knew the shape of the floor.At night, when the house was quiet and the glow of the phone had finally gone black, she would sit at the edge of her bed and talk to God the way lonely people do. Not with fine words. With need.“Send me a man who is not a boy,” she said.“Send me someone brave. Honest. Loyal. A man

If we want a better world—and I know we do—we have to start where the soul is still pure. We have to start with our children.They’re not just the future. They are the now. They are watching us, learning from us, copying us. And if we don’t give them the tools they need—real tools, not just tests and grades—then we’ve already failed th