The young narrator asks what was the last memory you have when things were good. Then she proceeds to tell and show us her memories. Even her voice is a bit haunting, presenting her story in soft and clear words. We meet her grandfather, who has told her of a time in the past she cannot remember and we also meet her brother, who has let his fear overcome him. We see the Commmunity she lives in, the little stories, the celebrations. We meet her best friend in play with her. It all looks too normal. It looks too much like our world. Will those of us who remain allow this to become our future and continue to ignore the stories of today in distant places? Can we stand up and be counted now to forestall the movement from coming to our communities? Will we?