Kenneth Behring walked down the dusty path, the last steps in a trip that had brought him from his home in California to a village in Vietnam.

He stopped before a hut. A couple invited him in. In the corner on a pile of rags huddled a little girl. She watched the stranger cautiously, wrapping her arms around her legs.

Bui Thi Huyen couldn’t walk. For her whole life she’d crawled or been carried. Now that would change.

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