Give everything you are, even if its sound.

I have crossed back into Thailand, and again no questions were asked about my lack of an onward ticket out of the kingdom; just a quizzical look through the pages of my passport and a stamp in red ink: JUL 25 2008.

As I walked to awaiting transport with a small group of others making the same trip from Phnom Penh to Bangkok, some girls approached. They were of all different heights but only one size: tiny. They had umbrellas but some were without shoes. One of these little children was immediately at my side. Being only half my height, she took twice as many steps to match my pace and used her fingers to hold the handle which extended into a spider-framed orange canvas above my head. Across baking asphalt and almost no trees, she walked with me.

I immediately felt horrible. I knew what she was expecting.

It would take a heartless pig to ignore their pleas, but in turn it takes misappropriated passion to give them a dollar and walk out. Some tourists will say they have no money -- a horrible attempt at escape in my opinion -- but I cannot lie. You look into those almond eyes and downcast lips and lie. I don't believe these girls are fooled. They are smart. They have their tactics, but this does not change the heart of the matter. Whether or not they are begging for pimps or cruel parents, whether or not they spend their money on something most would deem insignificant, whether or not their pouting lips are forced, they are still begging children. They are barefoot, filthy, bug-eaten, snot-nosed, empty-bellied, kids. My heart allows me nothing more than, "no, I'm sorry."

I looked around for food, but I saw nothing; only heat, dust, and pavement. I looked for something to give, and then I remembered.

The shortest girl in the group, was standing across the way, puffing her cheeks with air and expelling it with the soft force of her short fingers. I looked in her direction, and mimicked her as best I could. Her head turned and she smiled. Then she moved. For a moment she disappeared behind a standing motorbike, and then there she was standing in front of me; smiling with tiny gaps in between new adult teeth. She waited staring at me with an open mouth. I filled my cheeks and made the sound again.

*PBLTTTTT!*

She puffed her tiny cheeks with a breath and forced it out with two equally tiny fists.

*PBLTTTT!*

We laughed.

The game continued until she showed me something new. Stacking her fingers, one behind the other, she contorted her hand and showed it to me, begging me to do the same. When I failed miserably she took my hand into hers and counted as she tried to stack my clumsy fingers in the same way. I laughed at my failure, and she giggled while trying to show me again as if I was missing a step in her instruction. She smiled each time I tried, until we moved on again. She had something to show me.

A garbage bag strap was hanging like jewelry around her neck and a tiny impression near her stomach showed that there was something on the end of that plastic string. She rolled up her shirt every so slightly to show me what was in hiding. In a tiny, clear plastic bag was a pile of miniature toy animals and two silver coins -- her possessions. There was six Thai Baht in her bag, but she wanted to show me her animals. She pulled out a handful. A purple monkey, a yellow lion, a blue bird, and a few others.

"Oh!" I said, fingering through the plastic molds and desperately trying to remember the Khmer names for each. But I couldn't think of anything and it was time to go. I began to stand up.

"Bye bye," she said.

As I sat down in the border shuttle van, she repeated it again: "bye bye."

With the sliding door open, I took a breath and pressed air from my cheeks one more time. She returned fire.

The door slammed shut, but she was still there; looking through the window, moving her head left and right to catch me in between seat shifting occupants. She waved her hand, and I saw her mouth those two words again and again; "bye bye."

I caught her eyes, waved, and we left.