shipwrecked, and then we continued to travel. I had a habit of asking one kid per country

what they wanted most in the world, expecting to hear a Playstation, a flat screen TV, all

the things that we take for granted. I asked a young girl in Hawaii where we were shipwrecked

-- again, a terrible place to get shipwrecked, Hawaii. I said, "What do you want most in

the world?" This young beautiful young girl said, "To dance."

Then I asked a girl in China. I said, "What do you want most in the world?" She said,

"A book." And then I got to Hong Kong, and I heard my

favorite answer, which was "magic," just magic. By the time I got to India, the reason I went

on this trip, the kind of karmic compulsion to go in the first place, I asked this boy

begging on the streets where the poverty is overwhelming and you can't give money because

it perpetuates this cycle of begging. And, you know, candy works really well. But, as

I mentioned, my mother is an orthodontist and my father is a dentist. They'd be very

upset with me. I said, "What do you want most in the world" to this young boy. And he looked

at me. And he said, "A pencil." That was it. Just a pencil. I had one, and I gave him my

pencil. And he lit up completely. And he held it in the air. And there was an instant moment

of transformation in me. He went -- this act, two things happened. I realized the incredible

power of education in the hands of locals, not just us as westerners kind of imparting

our ideals onto others, but the pencil as a tool for empowerment. And, secondly, even

as a young person, I could actually help somebody in a meaningful way. It wasn't just about,

you know, the select few. The creation of good is a space that should be accessible

to all.