Folded neatly in the corner of the pocket of a little girl’s tattered red coat, was a well-worn piece of paper. Her seven-year-old fingers toyed with it obsessively, but ever-so-gently, so as not to tear it, or indeed fade the precious words that were hastily scribbled on it. She had stuffed it in her frayed pocket minutes before her family fled to meet the boat made by her father, which was to take them from war-torn Vietnam to their new life across the sea, to a country of safety, security and hope for a new life – Australia.
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