It Was The Oldest Sound There Was.

There Was Nothing I Hated Worse Than Clumps Of Whispering Girls Who Got Quiet When I Passed. I Started Picking Scabs Off My Body And, When I Didn't Have Any, Gnawing The Flesh Around My Fingernails Until I Was A Bleeding Wreck. I Worried So Much About How I Looked And Whether I Was Doing Things Right, I Felt Half The Time I Was Impersonating A Girl Instead Of Really Being Me.

This Is The Autumn Of Wonders, Yet Every Day, Every Single Day, I Go Back To That Burned Afternoon In August When T. Ray Left. I Go Back To That One Moment When I Stood In The Driveway With Small Rocks And Clumps Of Dirt Around My Feet And Looked Back At The Porch. And There They Were. All These Mothers. I Have More Mothers Than Any Eight Girls Off The Street. They Are The Moons Shining Over Me.

You Are My Everlasting Home. Don't You Ever Be Afraid. I Am Enough. We Are Enough.

The Most Significant Gifts Are The Ones Most Easily Overlooked. Small, Everyday Blessings: Woods, Health, Music, Laughter, Memories, Books, Family, Friends, Second Chances, Warm Fireplaces, And All The Footprints Scattered Throughout Our Days.

I Said, "if I Was A Negro Girl-" He Placed His Fingers Across My Lips So I Tasted His Saltiness. "we Can't Think Of Changing Our Skin," He Said. "change The World-that's How We Gotta Think."