Memoirs of a Caribbean Girl

What does love look like? It has the hands to help others. It has the feet to hasten to the poor and needy. It has eyes to see misery and want. It has the ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of men. That is what love looks like.”    Saint Augustine

I am no child but I am someone’s child, or I use to be anyway.

Though I am but thirteen, I have long seized to be seen as a child in the eyes of many if not all the member of my village. Orphaned at the tender age of seven I struggled to survive in a village that once embraced me as somebody.  Today, I am little more than non-existent to all but a few.

It took but the blink of an eye for me to loose everything I once held dear, all because some fool chose to get behind the wheel of his car drunk, thinking he could do what others have fail to accomplish.  Drive straight as though he were sober, the saddest thing is he might as well have been since he walked away from the accident with little to no injuries.

I spends weeks in the hospital recuperating from my injuries but its taken a life time to get over the grief of losing my family.

You may be wonder who I am.  Well I could be your daughter, a sister, maybe a cousin, a friend perhaps even a niece.   The truth is  I can’t tell you who I am because , only you can answer that but I will assist you in finding the answer.  Let us start at the end where I began.

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