She never knew her parents, they died when she was young.

Raised by her brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, friends,

and neighbors she is proof that it really does take a village

to raise a child. But the village she grew up in was rough.

The village she grew up in provided no room for

empathy, sympathy, or apathy: she became a rock.

A rock that was buried underground, hidden by the world

surrounding her. With her strong, stone cold exterior she

believed she had the ability to withstand any problem life

threw at her. With every dagger life threw at her and with

every bullet she dodged she would take it with eyes wide open.

The years of emotionless combat and building walls to protect herself

made her the woman she is today. A woman that is unbreakable. she was unbreakable.

she still is unbreakable. Holding her head high and keeping her head out of the clouds she remains as strong as her strong, stone cold interior.

Resembling the very village that built her to be who she is today, my mother is a rock.