As I stopped along the roadside north of Kabul, three young boys emerged from an overgrown vineyard and proudly offered me a handful of fresh grapes. Soon more children emerged. The sight brought back childhood memories of summer days spent roaming through the vast vineyards that joined our ranch in California. However, my smile quickly vanished with alarm. The unmistakable signs of a minefield, rocks painted red, surrounded the field from where these children surfaced. Why would they trespass through the jeopardy of a minefield I wondered? The oldest boy quickly responded, ma goashna, "we are hungry." The basic need for food had driven these children directly into harm's way.



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