Beauty and ugliness are all mask, do not judge facially but inwardly.
Tears of an orphan
Amina sat alone on the cold, dusty floor of her small orphanage, her eyes streaming with tears. She had just received news that her only living relative, an aunt she had never met, had refused to take her in. At 12 years old, Amina felt like she had nowhere left to turn. She had grown up in the orphanage, surrounded by other children who, like her, had been abandoned or lost their families. But Amina's story was different. She remembered her parents, their warm smiles and loving hugs. She remembered the way her mother used to sing to her, the way her father used to play with her. As she cried, Amina's thoughts drifted back to those happy memories. She wished she could turn back time, wished she could be with her parents again. But life had other plans. The orphanage's strict matron, Mrs. Jones, entered the room, her expression softening slightly as she saw Amina's tears. "Amina, child, don't cry. You'll get through this. You're strong." Amina ...
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