*A man strides into Gandhi's dwelling and throws bread at his feet* Man
: Eat...EAT! I am going to hell, but I will not have your death on my soul! Gandhi
: Only God decides who goes to hell. Man
: I killed a child!
A Muslim infant! I picked it up and smashed it's head against a wall! Gandhi
: Why? Man
: Because they killed my son! The Muslims killed my only son! *indicates the boy's height by holding a hand around his waist, starts crying*
He was just a little boy, about so tall... Gandhi
: I know a way out of hell. Go out into the streets and find a little boy... *Gandhi holds his hand around the height of the man's waist.* Gandhi
: ...about so tall, whose mother and father have been killed. Take him home and raise him as your own. Only, be sure that he is a Muslim, and be sure that you raise him as such.