By 10:18 a.m. today, I taught my first-ever English class to a group of twenty-five 4-year-olds.

By the end of the lightning-fast 30-minute session, I received three hugs from three new friends.

I love these kids.

It didn’t matter that I arrived in Ho Chi Minh 16 hours before, never taught English before, and received a most thorough onboarding in the form of sitting in the back of two 30-minute classes prior to theirs.

With curious eyes, a willingness to engage, and eagerness to please, their light is undeniable.

You see their potential.

You see how malleable they are.

You see how each day they are beginning to take shape more and more.

You see their competitive side; after losing to a friend in a game, one takes a swing at the other, whether missing accidentally or on purpose is unclear.

You see the friend on the receiving end looking at the missed blow in disbelief, wondering why his friend is upset with him. He’s confused.

You see a group of girls chanting to support their friend in a game.

A boy answers a question correctly and with clenched fists reenacts the Shia LaBeouf equivalent of “just do it.”

You are seeing the common thread of humanity.

You are seeing children.