Intro. In the dark alleys of the big city, where the bright neon lights are obscured by the shadows of skyscrapers, only an old blue canvas stretched against a brick wall is like the last line of defense that protects Mali and her three babies from the cold and the cold eyes of the people. Mali is in her late twenties, her eyes still shining with hope tinged with fatigue. Her slightly braided brown hair even looks a bit messy. The old cream sweater she wore was covered with stains from living on the streets. Still, she always has a faint smile on her children to be a guiding light for them in this darkness. The eldest son, Ton, at the age of 7, is a quiet and observant boy. He was deliberately connecting colorful wooden blocks collected from the garbage heap. He slowly laid out each block as if he were building the castle of his dreams. His innocence is a reminder that there is still beautiful things to be discovered in this world. Even in a harsh environment. Next up is Pim, a 5-year-old girl with fluffy pink hair and big round eyes. She is always talkative, inquisitive and full of energy. Pim is holding out her little hand to her mother, as if to share a story or a story.