*April 13th, 2022*
"Grandma, Grandma!" said a voice coming from the bedroom, "We are ready for bed!". I yawned and walked through the hallway to kiss my grandchildren goodnight. I was here in Saint Louis for one night, my annual trip for Easter. "Grandma, can you tell us a bedtime story?" said Nevaeh, my youngest grandchild. "Sure, but as long as y'all promise to wake up in the mornin' on time for Momma. She works hard to have a warm breakfast on the table for y'all." I smiled at all three of my angels and thought for a moment. "Do you want to hear about when Grandma was a child?". They nodded their heads in agreement and pulled their covers up. "Well, back in the day, my favorite thing to do was jump rope with my best friend, Betsy......."
*July 11th, 1962*
"Cinderella, dressed in yellow, went upstairs to kiss her fellow, made a mistake and kissed a snake, how many doctors did it take? 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8!"
"That was amazing Betsy!" I said with a smile stretching from each end of my face. "I know, Annie, I'm a professional," said Betsy, sarcastically. Betsy has been my best friend for three months. We do everything together! Our favorite activity is jump roping. We jump rope on sunny days, rainy days, weekdays, weekends, mornings, evenings, and every time we can! She is the only thing that distracts me from Tommy, the neighborhood bully. Ever since my mom adopted me, he has bullied me about everything. My hair, my skin, my clothes, my voice, my grades, my shoes, and my drawings. The only thing that keeps me going is Betsy and drawing. When I was adopted, I was only three. I was only young. I was only innocent. I never knew what my future would hold, or if I had a future. I never knew the next step. The only contact I had with my biological mother, was through my orphanage, yet they would not allow me to have the address for safety reasons. Why did she leave me? Even though I have my adoptive parents and my friends, it still feels like it is me against the world. The world against me. It feels like I am a tiny grain of sand, on an island full of beaches. I am ready for a change. I am ready to make a difference. Why don't I make a difference? I know I can.
After ten years of living with my new parents, I have finally got the hang of being in a small town. Betsy and I go to Cotton Middle School, we live in Kentucky. "Down South" as many people would say. I was born in New York City, although I don't remember anything but the molded walls of my orphanage. My parents, Marye and Tim, adopted me in the Summer of 1953. I love my parents with all my heart, they saved me from being a lonely, hungry orphan, but I still wonder who my birth mom is. I still wonder if I will ever meet her, or if she is even alive. I do a lot of wondering in my spare time. Was my mom forced to leave me, or did she abandon me? Did she give me up so I could have a better life, or did she not want me? I don't know if I will ever figure it out, but I hope I do.
Merci pour la lecture!
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