Love Nourishes The Lost And Alone

After my parents died I was put in an orphanage. I was 11. It was terrible, emotionally. Six months after I was in the orphanage I was called to the Head Mistress' office. A lady was there, and a man. She said she was my mother's second cousin, and that was her husband. If I agreed they would adopt me and I would go live in Texas.

I went to a home, a big house, I had my own bedroom, my own bathroom. There was a big bed, the lady cooked so good. She told me that she had never been able to conceive, so I was it. Her daughter.

I finished growing up in a very nice life, I attended good schools and I went to Columbia on a merit scholarship. One day I accepted a marriage proposal. And one day several years later I delivered my first child.

I know this is not about sex, it's about being loved when all love was lost. That I was collected and finished growing up in comfort is not the story. It's about being loved when all love is lost. If, if one day you can love someone who has no one to love them, then that's what you do. Period.