Noah sat on the grass at the garden edge. Other children chased each other around the flower beds, their laughter ringing out.
He picked at a dandelion, its soft white puff trembling in his fingers. He watched the other kids play without joining them.
Noah followed his grandmother into the living room. Sunlight pooled on the rug beside a wall of family photos.
She knelt beside him and pointed to a picture of a little boy with curly hair. "Look," she said, tracing the frame. "God made every person differently — and He loves each one just the way they are."
Noah looked at each photo carefully — a girl with freckles, a tall man with a big smile, a baby with one missing tooth.
He touched the glass of each picture, his fingertip landing on a photo of a boy with the same crooked grin he sees in the mirror every morning.
"That's me," he whispered, surprised.
Noah ran back to the garden and climbed onto the矮 fence the other children never use. He balanced there, arms out like wings, and let out a silly crooked-tooth grin that made everyone stop and stare.