Meet Moses.  He was one of the first kids I met working on Lake Volta.  I watched as George pulled the quiet boy aside and asked him vital questions that would need to be answered before the boy's release would be possible... What's your master's name?, Do you have any living relatives?, Where are you from originally?, etc.  I vividly remember my heart breaking at one point in their conversation as I saw Moses flench as George raised his hand. You could see the relief on the boy's face when George placed it on his shoulder.  Throughout the next few days we met countless other small children working on the lake, but the sight of Moses just wouldn't leave my head... to be honest it still hasn't.  Each night, I, the non-crier, was in tears for having to just walk away from the situation.  I felt completely helpless... George, having the ok from Moses's master, would still have to track down Moses's mother for the formal permission to take her son under his care, but he assured me that he would do everything in his power to find her.  Months after I had returned to Texas, George did get the permission needed, but when he returned to the master's home he found that because of the rainy season, everyone had left.  Frustrated and impatiently I waited and prayed for word from George on Moses's release.  Months later, on my return to Lake Volta, to document more children working, we stopped at a familiar village.  Peering out from behind a tree in front of his master's home, was Moses.  With all the formal permission and paperwork in hand (although the jury's still out on whether not having it would have stopped me), we packed a small backpack with all of Moses's possessions.  The next morning I left Lake Volta, headed for Tema, holding Moses in my arms.