A year passed. Every day Manjhi was a little stronger and the hole a little deeper and longer. Ten feet forward. Twenty feet forward. Ten years passed. Still it was too far for children to walk to school, the sick often couldn’t get to the clinic in time, and the villagers spent countless hours climbing to work in the fields and shop in the markets. But Manjhi didn’t slow down. Hold. Aim. Swing! He pushed forward. Thirty feet forward. Fifty feet forward. The sides of the hole towered over his body!
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