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David King, news editor of the daily newspaper The Australian in Sydney, is visiting the United States as a fellow with the 

One of the joys of being in Minneapolis and St. Paul is walking next to the Mississippi River. I didn't know before I came here that the river flowed through this part of the world. (In my mind, the river existed only in the South somewhere, courtesy of Mark Twain.)


But, as it turns out, it's just behind the university where I'm staying. I've tried every day to find time to stroll beside it. Sometimes I climb down from the path to sit on a rock ledge and watch it flow. 


Recently I went there on a particularly hot and humid afternoon. I arrived to find dozens of walkers streaming past, decked out in various combinations of pink and purple clothing. Their faces were flushed, and some were walking gingerly. Most walked in groups, others in pairs, a few on their own. Clearly they had been walking for a long time and it seemed they had a distance to go.


My half hour of quiet reflection now seemed unavailable, and I considered turning back. But I'd come this far, so I decided to head into the tide. 


I soon worked out that the event was a fundraiser to tackle breast cancer. The walkers wore tops saying "find a cure" or 

 and things like that. I thought, "Good on 'em," as we say down under, and turned my mind to other things: articles I would like to write, the movement of the river.


And then I saw a guy with a picture of a woman on his T-shirt. 


I didn't get a good look, but I had time to read the words: "I would walk forever to bring her back."


I walked on for a bit and then thought about it again. "I would walk forever to bring her back."  Then I started to cry behind my sunglasses. The photo must have been of his wife, and it was the saddest thing I had ever seen.


I've cried about that guy and his T-shirt again in the days since I saw him. I'm not sure why it's hit me so deeply. 


Cancer has touched my life in the past couple of years. My mother has survived one close encounter with the illness and my father was diagnosed earlier this year. I would walk to the end of the earth if I thought it would find him a cure.


So I'm sure some of the impact comes from the many fears I've kept bottled up inside. I'm glad they are starting to find their way out.


But what made the T-shirt so achingly sad wasn't what it said about cancer. It was what it said about love. That it goes on forever, even after one of us leaves. 


It was good to be reminded how special my loved ones are to me, especially when I'm so far from home. And it's possible I would have had these realizations back in Sydney, in my office or on the train heading to work. 

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He briefly joined a walk for breast cancer, and at first didn't understand why it made him cry.

It took a walk along the Mississippi to teach this foreign visitor a lesson about life

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