Teenager's parents, like many in their situation, took their child out of education to turn her into a 14-hours-a-day labourer slaving over shoe leather — then they had second thoughts.
Fifteen-year-old Anu, her two brothers and her mum and dad live in Agra, in a community where most of the families eke out an existence as shoemakers.
There are 265 families living in the community, and every single school-age child attends school.
Anu, for example, was taken out of school last year to help her mother and father make ends meet and she spent up to 14 hours every day sewing shoe leather.
Child labour is a way of life in a country with no welfare system and where children are seen as work units – and it's not illegal in India.
A flabby piece of legislation passed in 1986 permitted children under the age of 14 to be in the workforce, provided they were working in non-hazardous environments.
It was amended two years ago and prohibits any child under 14 to be employed in any capacity.
However, for all the fine intentions, the law affords very little protection for India's young people.
There are still influencers and decision-makers in India who believe that removing children from India's workforce has an impact on India's economic growth, hinders exports and puts at risk agricultural and craft communities who need to teach children the specific skills of the communities at a young age.
And there are still unscrupulous employers who will employ children for specific tasks that require flexibility, agility and tiny frames.
And there are desperate parents who see no option other than to put their child to work.
It's estimated there are 11 million children under the age of 15 who are working in India and for every 14-year-old employed legally, there will be many more under that age working illegally in dangerous industries and putting in cripplingly long hours.
Twelve to 14-hour days are common – in fact, a number of the children we spoke to worked those hours every single day.
World Vision has morning and evening programmes around the country designed to help child labourers stay in touch with their education.
But it is difficult to imagine how a young one who's just worked a 14-hour day could find the energy and the inclination to spend a couple of hours concentrating on a maths or language lesson in a small room with thirty other kids.
When Anu was taken out of school, her future looked grim.
She hated having to leave her classmates but she knew the reality of her family's financial situation.
When they had their babies, they dreamed of brighter futures for all three children.
"I always wanted her to study," says Sunil, Anu's dad, "But the situation was bad and I didn't have as much motivation to change it.
"Once I realised the importance of education, I was committed to the children being in school" ... Sunil's voice cracks, and he pauses, his eyes swimming with tears.
He realises, he explains through an interpreter, how close he came to sabotaging his daughter's future.
It was World Vision's education programme on the benefits of sending children to school that saw a paradigm shift in the way Anu's parents, and every other parent in the community, thought about schooling for their sons and daughters.
Nothing about the family's situation has changed.
Money is still tight and it's a struggle for the family to get by.
But Sunil and Sarog say that thanks to World Vision and its programme, they are determined that their children will graduate from school and in the words of Sunil, "become someone".
Anu is inspired to make the most of her second chance.
She is doing well in her exams, despite helping out with the family's shoemaking business for four to five hours a day.
She is committed to fulfilling her obligations; helping her family, studying, doing well and graduating to a good job.
Ultimately, she'd like to become a police offer.
She wants to try to help other kids just like her make the most of their potential.