I am that prodigal son who wasted all the portion entrusted to me by my father. But I have not yet fallen at my father's knees. I have not yet begun to put away from me the enticements of my former riotous living.

What I am looking for is a blessing not in disguise.

I am like the sick sheep that strays from the rest of the flock. Unless the Good Shepherd takes me on His shoulders and carries me back to His fold, my steps will falter, and in the very effort of rising, my feet will give way.

My father is an Algerian, proud of who he is and I am proud that my father is Algerian.

I am indebted to my father for living, but to my teacher for living well.

I'm so proud of who I am and where I come from and who my father is.