“I reach for the kind of faith that informs a small incident which happened a few years ago to a good friend of mine in Cape Town. At the age of five, his son had just started pre-school. And to the delight of my friend, who was white, his son very quickly became friends with a black boy. It was no ordinary friendship. The two boys became inseparable. Then, after a few months, the white boy was present when his black friend was picked up from school by his father. The little white boy gawked in amazement.
And very early the next morning, he was at school to await the arrival of his friend. The moment he saw him, the white boy ran to the gate, breathless with excitement. “You never told me,” he cried, “that you daddy was black!”
(André Brink: A Fork in the Road: a Memoir)
Vaccamadosca 
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