Hey there, Red one! someone called out. Ridván was walking home from school past a group of older boys.
Got rid of that van yet? another chimed in.
Red one, rid-van, red one, rid-van! the boys all lauged.
Why do I have such a terrible name, thought Ridván for at least the tenth time that day. . .
This is the story of how a nine year old Bahá’í finds out how to cope with the problems of being different – and how he learns something about himself and his religion at the same time.
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