Why do I look different, Mom? My daughter will ask one day. How come I don't resemble all the kids with whom I play? My hair is inky black and straight, my skin's a different hue. So would you tell me, Mom, why don't I look like you? You're an Oriental flower, I'll tell my darling girl. Your skin and hair and eyes all come from halfway 'round the world. The sun of China warmed your skin to that exquisite shade. Your eyes are China's beauty marks, your hair a silk cascade. The color of a midnight sky, unlighted by a star. So don't think you look different, dear, You look like who you are.
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