b'A s I write these words, the world has been brought to its knees by a virus so small and invisible to the naked eye, yet the destructive power it has unleashed is enormous. One of ten people who have succumbed to the novel coronavirus worldwide live in India. The most vulnerable citizens dwell in the countrys overcrowded slums, where the sheer crush of humanity challenges mandates to socially distance. The pandemic has forced the poor to leave the cities in living streams and return to their native towns and villages. Transportation systems at a halt, many make the long journeys on foot. Child labor and trafficking are on the rise. The healthcare system is overburdened; morgues are overcapacity.Many of the people I photographed: families making their once-in-a-lifetime pilgrimage to the River Ganges, day laborers, barbers, sheepherders, beggars, the disabled, the holy men who have no houses, no apartments, no elegant hotels to shelter at home in, are now in an unbearable situation. Although a vaccine may be on the horizon, who knows how long until the population of 1.3 billion will have access to it.I look at the images I captured during my visit to India; I see the sacred history of a people in the faces of dignity, joy, holiness, worship, and I find myself filled with hope for each person. It is a desperate hope that each will find his or her way home, to a safe future that also embraces the power of their ancient traditions and wisdom. I am honored to have spent those fleeting moments, connecting with these men, women and children; the moments of their allowing me the privilege of photographing them. And I am honored to share these photographs with you.'