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Conor was initially reluctant to volunteer, unsure whether he had the proper skill, or enough passion, to get involved in a developing country in the middle of a civil war. But he was soon overcome by the herd of rambunctious, resilient children who would challenge and reward him in a way that he had never imagined. When Conor learned the unthinkable truth about their situation, he was stunned: The children were not orphans at all. Child traffickers were promising families in remote villages to protect their children from the civil war—for a huge fee—by taking them to safety. They would then abandon the children far from home, in the chaos of Nepal’s capital, Kathmandu.
For Conor, what began as a footloose adventure becomes a commitment to reunite the children he had grown to love with their families, but this would be no small task. He would risk his life on a journey through the legendary mountains of Nepal, facing the dangers of a bloody civil war and a debilitating injury. Waiting for Conor back in Kathmandu, and hopeful he would make it out before being trapped in by snow, was the woman who would eventually become his wife and share his life’s work.
Little Princes is a true story of families and children, and what one person is capable of when faced with seemingly insurmountable odds. At turns tragic, joyful, and hilarious, Little Princes is a testament to the power of faith and the ability of love to carry us beyond our wildest expectations.
How Taking Notes and Living without Indoor Plumbing Would Change My Life
When I was living in Nepal, I kept a notebook with me at all times. It was a small Nepali-made notebook—the brand name was Happy Days! or some such thing— and it made me smile every time I looked at it. I took it everywhere I went, and wrote in it often.
The children constantly asked me what I was writing, and I would tell them I was recording our conversations. That was true, but it was more than that. I was also recording everything I found strange in my new home. Like the fact that the kids chewed on chicken bones until they were practically dust, or that one of the boys, Santosh, had a digital watch which he’d borrowed from a friend that, along with displaying the hour, flashed “I Love You!” once per second.
There were times I was caught without my notebook, like in the middle of a soccer game when Dawa’s shot—destined for just inside the invisible right post—was blocked by the broadside of a cow, and I had to try to recall from memory the captivating debate over the role of livestock in team sports, and whether or not the goal should count. (It didn’t.)
Then, when the children would go to bed at 8 p.m., I would bundle up in two or three fleeces, a hat, and woolen gloves I had cut the fingers out of; I’d pull out my notebook and I’d sit down to write my travel blog, copying everything I had put into the notebook over the course of the day into an old, ultra-light Dell I’d bought off eBay for about 200 dollars. It was pretty much useless except as a word processor, but it was the most precious thing I owned. Over the next three years, traveling the globe and living in Nepal, I would end up typing just over half-a-million words on that little workhorse—five times the length of Little Princes.
It turned out that writing everything down in the moment was critical because the more time I spent in Nepal, the more normal these “strange” things became. It became normal to watch my blankets being made from scratch on the ground outside my house, to trade broken flip-flops for potatoes, and to use outhouses on a daily basis without thinking twice about it. (Did you hear that, people? Outhouses!)
The funny thing is, with all that note-taking, I never had any intention of writing a book about my time in Nepal. It honestly never occurred to me that it was a much of a story until someone else mentioned the idea to me.
Once I started writing the book, however, I couldn’t stop. I went back to my old notebooks and I was suddenly in Nepal again, hearing in my mind exactly how Hriteek had laughed, or Nishal had protested, or Raju had squealed as he’d run through the house, bare feet padding against the cold cement floors.
Little Princes, the book, allowed me to revisit that wonderful, difficult, challenging, happy time of my life. I still get back to Nepal, of course, and I still see the children. But they change, they grow up. Writing Little Princes allowed me to visit the children as they were. And also, as the person I was.
An amazing touching true story and very well written.
Conor Grennan had me hooked from the very beginning of Little Princes: One Man's Promise to Bring Home the Lost Children of Nepal!
I hope that there were more books like this one, that makes you feel good and it opens your eyes to want to change the world.
A heart warming true story of one man's brave journey. I was so inspired and moved by this story. I feel as if I knew all the prince's in Nepal myself. Beautiful book! Loved it!Published 22 hours ago by Courtney Ann Roe
Good read. Insights to the life of children in the Middle East. I could feel the pains of Conor walking on an injured knee... Read morePublished 1 day ago by Carol
A travel adventure, fast read, inspiring and heartfelt. The narratives and way it was written made me feel like I was there. Told with humor and laugh out loud moments. Read morePublished 2 days ago by jamie
Endearing love for children and the quest to find parents of children taken by thieves to use them as slaves.Published 17 days ago by L. Str
Extraordinary and inspiring - made me go out to help one kid in my neighbourhood today. Grennan shows that out shared humanity and love for all is alive and well.Published 19 days ago by Dheepa Nedungat
I couldn't put this book down ! I feel so inspired by this story and I'm thrilled that I can keep following NGN through facebook and their webpage. Read morePublished 27 days ago by Chelsea Rolland-Benis
Great book! Made me feel as though i needed to get out into the world and do more good. I thought a tad slow at the end, so therefore, the 4 star rating instead of a 5.Published 1 month ago by Sarah Anne Evans