These curves are not just art.
They are stories carved in stone.
Recently, we visited a place that holds deep meaning for us.
A master artist — one of the finest in the world — once worked here, shaping soapstone and granite into powerful forms. Before he passed away two years ago, he had begun training some of our children.
He saw something in them.
Potential.
Creativity.
A future.
As we walked through his space, I looked at these curved sculptures differently.
Each one carries a form… a weight… a direction.
Some bend.
Some rise.
Some seem to carry something unseen.
And I could not help but think of our children.
They too are being shaped.
Not by tools…
But by life.
By struggle.
By hope.
Some of them walk long distances every day just to come to school.
Some return to homes that are uncertain.
Some carry burdens no child should carry.
Yet, like these stones, they continue.
They endure.
They grow
But there is something missing.
A safe place.
A place where they can rest.
A place where they can stay and continue learning without fear or exhaustion.
That is why we need a dormitory.
Not as a luxury.
But as a necessity.
The same way a sculptor shapes stone with care and intention…
We are trying to shape lives.
But without a safe space, the process becomes harder.
Slower.
More uncertain.
This art reminds us that beauty can come from pressure.
That strength can come from shaping.
That something meaningful can emerge from something raw.
And maybe…
With the right support…
These children will not only learn…
They will rise.
If this story speaks to you, I invite you to be part of this journey.
Because sometimes…
What we build for a child today…
Becomes the future we all share tomorrow.
