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In the evening, as I go for a quiet stroll, another barefooted, grubby youngster, about seven years old, meets me on the dirt track. He carries in his hand a toy – a green plastic airplane. Its tail is broken off. Plastic propaganda toys were distributed by the soldiers on their Christmas-time operation. I ask the lad how he is. His face serious, he answers: “Padrecito, they haven’t killed me yet.”
A priest’s diary vividly recounts encounters with villagers during the war in El Salvador.