The Handshake

My hand was swallowed in his long black fingers;  His handshake strong with a daunting story behind it.

A lost boy who had come so far to tell his story; To me and other boys whose stories were nothing like his.

To me, meeting Daniel was momentous; To him, I was just another eager listener.

I wonder what he thought of me as I looked way up at him that morning; It was a one-way connection ... he inspired me.

But I had nothing to offer other than my hand.