Abebe knelt down, picked up a handful of rich, dark soil, and let it crumble through his fingers.

Abebe knelt down, picked up a handful of rich, dark soil, and let it crumble through his fingers. The land was fertile, his son was growing, and the future, once obscured by the shadows of hunger, was finally blooming under the bright, clear sun of a nation that had decided, once and for all, that its children would thrive.