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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I was small, five maybe six, all the other kids were playing in the streets, my baby brother in his swing. I was running out to play some cricket, my mama caught me in the kitchen, "your papa ain't growing money on the trees, see! we ain't rich like your cousins. Your uncle's second son is only four years more older he already wants to be a doctor, what you gonna be?" she hands me a book saying, "this will give you wings. My little one! you ought to take care of your little brother. I know you are a smart cookie, you came out of me. You were so tiny, you used to fit in my palms." She takes my face in her hands, kisses my forehead slightly embarrassing me, "I can't grow money on the trees, it is your duty. Take this book, it will give you wings, you will fly to other countries, you will grow money on the trees." Then my nan sees me at the door, grinding ginger, "Listen to your mama I made your pappy who he is. I harvest wheat in drought farms to feed your pappy. He walk to school barefoot, back and forth. I work in farm, morning to noon. he, a smart cookie, he, always in his books, I not know a clue what he reads. He, a smart cookie, be your pappy, he came out of me." While all this was going on, my pappy walks by to the other room silently, not to get in between two women in the house talking. Coming back from work, lies down in his chair opening his book says to mama, "my sons mama, can I please have some chai-tea." My mama runs back to her kettle, leaving me with my book. And my nan told me many more 'adventures of my pappy.'
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