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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Coral and Limestone** You can take the country out of me, but the essence of acid lime runs through my veins like an indelible mark of my heritage. Growing up on the island was a unique blessing, where the roots of kinship ran deep and everyone seemed connected by an invisible thread. It was a place where every child knew everyone else's name, and my grandmother, affectionately called Nana, was a beloved matriarch to every little boy and girl in our neighborhood. As barefoot rats, we wandered freely, our skin kissed by the sun and our laughter echoing through the verdant fields. Parenting in those days was tough love; it wasn’t so much about sparing the rod and spoiling the child, but more about corrections delivered through gentle slaps and back slaps that reminded us of the importance of respect and discipline. Misbehaving was never condoned, and there were no rewards for bad behavior back then. What I treasure most are the sun-drenched afternoons spent playing outside—running wild amid the soft, prickly grass, chasing vibrant rainbow butterflies fluttering in the warm breeze until the aroma of dinner wafted through the air, summoning us home. I recall the bright sunshine juxtaposed against weeks of refreshing rain, our small island alive with the sounds of nature and the scent of the earth after a downpour. The sense of community was palpable; even the less fortunate neighbors always looked out for one another, embodying a spirit of care that resonated deeply. There was a peculiar taste to the ground beneath my feet—as if it were infused with lime. I can still picture my cousin, unabashed, munching on chunks of dirt, much to Nana's dismay. Each time, she'd scold him, stressing the importance of clean habits. Yet, every other weekend, we endured our little rituals of castor oil or cod-liver oil, doses that made our bodies shiver with discomfort. Nana called it “cleansing our little souls” and claimed it would build strong bones and teeth, instilling in us the resilience we needed. Our island was a paradise of coral and limestone, dotted with endless stretches of sugarcane fields that sweetened the air with their fragrance. The tropical rainy season was a vibrant tapestry of life, enriched by resources like petroleum, fish, and natural gas that thrived in our warm climate. What more could any child ask for, other than the simple joys of happiness and safety? Reflecting on those days, I am enveloped in warm memories of the tender island winds that danced over the hills during breezy afternoons. How could I not give back to this land that shaped my very being? My heart will forever find its home on the coral and limestone earth, where the pride and industrious spirit of our little island stand as enduring symbols of our identity. Motto
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