All I truly know of this little boys story is that on the balmy day in Cebu when I saw him he asked me for a few pesos, and as I walked into McDonalds he sat outside and stared at me. He must not have been any older than six years old, but one of my Filipino friends told me that most likely he was the son of a drug addict who kept him on the streets to make money to perpetuate the addiction. This is not indicative of the Philippines because it happens all around the world.