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A child stands in the garden of her home; she sighs for
there are many things she doesn't understand - her
parents fighting, talk of poverty and war, of
helplessness and pain.
She sighs again, but then she sees bright flowers in the
grass; and as she looks more closely, there are flowers
everywhere; in the bushes, high in the trees, and in the
wind, they dance, and look like bubbles, spheres of
dreams.
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