Cox's Bazaar girl

Many times we are unexpectedly wise, we show ourselves indifferent to the will of destiny and he sneaks to us an unforeseen gift in the soul. I took this photograph in a small city of Bangladesh, Cox's Bazar, and was born of an act of faith: the girl put her faith in me for the simple fact that I looked at her sweetly. Taked from the hand of his faith, he accompanied me to the door of a bank and was waiting for me to change my money. When I left, I gave him the money I wanted to give him and photographed it on a ladder and in front of a semi -open fence. All so cold and so gray that the girl's eyes shone like sunlight. I said goodbye to her with a kiss and with the certainty of having fallen in love with her beautiful innocence. They did not spend many hours and I found her again in the port. I was playing with a group of poor children, and everyone pounced on me to ask for money. But the rich foreigner that I had previously become, to everyone's surprise, a poor man who looked at them pitifully in his eyes and asked them for money with both hands. I pointed with my fingers towards my mouth and said: I'm hungry, I'm hungry. One after another, the children were parading, disappeared behind the wooden boats or walked along the spring ramps. I was left alone, with my hands extended in the air. The girl had also moved away but hadn't left. He had retired to a corner and in him, safe from looks, carefully unrolled the same ticket that I had given him. He immediately approached me and lay it on me. In his eyes the same gaze of tenderness remained intact. He asked me to accept the ticket and to buy me food. I had stopped pretending and was surprised. I explained to the girl that everything had been a game. I asked him to save the ticket. I kissed her and left without wanting to leave. The next day I left that place and never saw her again. And since then, how many times have I told this story? And while I told it, in how many eyes have I seen a brightness of hope, an expression of astonishment, even some tear that, by shyness, has wanted to hide? Why did many fascinate that once I met a girl who was poor just because she asked for money to eat and that gave me her money because she saw in me the hunger that I pretended to have? As simple as accepting that a poor girl gave me the gift of sharing with me the richness of her innocence. A gift so big that I know that I would be much poorer today without him. Such a beautiful gift that I always want to share it with everyone. So that life will free us from excessive fear and give us the return to our necessary future innocence.   Pepe Navarro