Walking by the roadside, holding a bottle full of soapy water and a brush in their little hands, running towards the cars for cleaning the wind shields; when the signal turns red. Sleeping on the broken slab in a corner at a public place. Playing with mud with those little dirty hands, yet being happy on their own, unaware of the life around, unaware of everything else, they live their lives just the way it is. No complains, not a word, yet dreams blooming secretly in their hearts, whenever they see some kid of their age sitting in a car with family, driving through the road, laughing cheering up, while they stand and stare to the lucky ones from a distance on the same road with those teary eyes and falling hope.
They’re humans too, they might seem ordinary, but their spirit makes them angels, their strength with which they endure the hardships of their lives makes them extraordinary. They are innocent, they are those who will fly up into those skies someday, will knock on the doors of heaven, and will be rewarded the highest positions over there for their bravery, for their patience.
They’re humans with beautiful innocent souls, they’re angels I see on earth with divinely gifted inspiring strength.