Today, I spoke at Children’s Charter School. They invited me to be the guest speaker for their honors program. I felt delighted! I arrived an hour early and read a snippet of my book to the kids. Breakfast for all of the honor students in grades K-5 started at 10 a.m. Parents packed the place with cameras and gifts. And the energy was high. It was a cool experience for me.
Here is the transcript of my empowering speech:
First, I want to commend you all on a job well done.
As a matter of fact, I think this needs to be taped for 106 & Park because you don’t see this often. Brilliance is not celebrated often in this society.
But, let me tell you guys, around the world they celebrate their honor students.
Right now, it’s a 13-year-old boy at Morehouse College with three majors.
That’s three major subjects he’s studying and he’s making top grades.
I think that’s amazing!
The way you got here this morning, studying, doing extra homework; I want you to stay on that path. Whatever you did, keep doing it.
I also want to encourage you to find the smartest kid in your class and hang out with them. Because you’re good now, but hanging out with the smartest kid in your class will make you better.
And if you are the smartest kid, you hang out with some older kids who are smarter; some of the richest people in the world told me that advice.
We, but, well, everyone in this room; I don’t want us just to be rich, we need to be wealthy. There’s a difference. Rich is just financial. Wealthy is when you leave here and go find your friend who didn’t make the honor roll and you encourage them. Help them to get here too, for next semester. That way, the top is not so lonely.
That’s exactly what someone in this room did with me. And trust me, I am mightily grateful. I was doing everything but the right thing. And he (Mr. Williams) came, he didn’t just tell me, ‘I am wrong’, ‘I am wrong’, he spent time with me. He tutored me in math and science. Whatever I needed help in, he helped me. We even had fun. When he went to the movies or the skating ring with his friends, he took me too.
That showed me that you can make the honor roll and have fun. It became the blueprint for my work ethic. Work hard, you get to play hard. But, keep it on repeat.
And for that, I am eternally grateful. When I am sitting next to Oprah, he’s (Mr. Williams) going to be right there with me.
Last, Be nice to everyone because you never know who they will be.
Continue to work hard. Be blessed. And thank you.
[End transcript]
My very first honors speech. ;)
I didn't see that one coming...
Friday, February 05, 2010
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
Foot in the Door
The FedEx man had less than 15 minutes to arrive.
I needed my books!! And I couldn't be late to the librarians meeting!
The delivery was just as important as my own presence for my meeting.
Books in my hand meant money.
FedEx always made it to the house at 9:30. My regular delivery guy even knew to load a few boxes in my car.
He knew my hustle and he loved to see when my orders were big!
My meeting started at 10:30. I had to make it with books. He made it in the nick of time. When my delivery came, I was ready to leave. We didn't talk much because of the rush. Business, you know.
Excitedly, I hopped in my car and made it up the highway.
It's official I told myself, I am an author, with my first book and I’m going meet the librarians.
My name was boldly printed on the agenda next to my book title. I was up for discussion! There were only two authors (including myself) and a handful of other important people there to present.
The audience was mostly women sitting wall to wall in the large room. The energy in the room was high.
The first author went up. I learned she worked a job a few years and had been in the game (literary world) a while so I sat back and played the rookie.
Yes, A rookie, but I planned to lead off my book presentation as if I was a top draft pick that made the starting line-up. I had to tuck my stage freight away.
As I walked to the podium I thought, I am now, the LeBron of writing. Franchise. No bench warmer. I have million dollar ink-pen endorsements.
Before I went up I prayed a silent prayer. Lord, please don’t let me trip, stutter or fall.
The first author was good. She was really good, and sometimes it's hard to go after good. I decided to feed off of her and the crowd energy.
My words came out of my mouth as I planned them in my head and several were eager to meet me afterwards.
One came up, grabbed my hand and said, "So nice to meet you. You know, we usually don't have authors over."
“Yes, I heard,” I replied with a smile.
"Let me buy a copy of your book."
“Why, sure!”
“I’ll read it first and see if it will be something our kids will be excited for,” she continued.
“I think you're going to like it,” I grinned.
She skimmed through the pages.
“I like it already,” she smiled back.
“When you are finished reading it can I come to your school? And do you order books?”
“You know what, you can because I think you will be great for our kids. Is your schedule be open? And, yes, we would order your book for the kids.”
“Yes, it is,” I beamed. My skin glowed even in the old recessed lighting and my heart did summersaults.
“I think that will be great.”
“Me too!!”
That day, I gained entry into three schools. I did well; most of the librarians worked at schools for younger kids and they were getting riddled with information packets, order forms with some companies even offering books for only a dollar.
[SIDEBAR]
My heart skipped another beat. I thought it was going to have me out of breath. I had to talk it into calming down. If I didn’t catch my breath we both were going to be in trouble.
OK! OK! Keep still, Heart!! We did great!
[END SIDEBAR]
On my way skipping out of the door a lady stopped me.
“Brandi, can you please sign your poster for my kids,” she asked. “You know, we usually don't have authors here.”
I take it as an honor, where do you want me to sign?
I needed my books!! And I couldn't be late to the librarians meeting!
The delivery was just as important as my own presence for my meeting.
Books in my hand meant money.
FedEx always made it to the house at 9:30. My regular delivery guy even knew to load a few boxes in my car.
He knew my hustle and he loved to see when my orders were big!
My meeting started at 10:30. I had to make it with books. He made it in the nick of time. When my delivery came, I was ready to leave. We didn't talk much because of the rush. Business, you know.
Excitedly, I hopped in my car and made it up the highway.
It's official I told myself, I am an author, with my first book and I’m going meet the librarians.
My name was boldly printed on the agenda next to my book title. I was up for discussion! There were only two authors (including myself) and a handful of other important people there to present.
The audience was mostly women sitting wall to wall in the large room. The energy in the room was high.
The first author went up. I learned she worked a job a few years and had been in the game (literary world) a while so I sat back and played the rookie.
Yes, A rookie, but I planned to lead off my book presentation as if I was a top draft pick that made the starting line-up. I had to tuck my stage freight away.
As I walked to the podium I thought, I am now, the LeBron of writing. Franchise. No bench warmer. I have million dollar ink-pen endorsements.
Before I went up I prayed a silent prayer. Lord, please don’t let me trip, stutter or fall.
The first author was good. She was really good, and sometimes it's hard to go after good. I decided to feed off of her and the crowd energy.
My words came out of my mouth as I planned them in my head and several were eager to meet me afterwards.
One came up, grabbed my hand and said, "So nice to meet you. You know, we usually don't have authors over."
“Yes, I heard,” I replied with a smile.
"Let me buy a copy of your book."
“Why, sure!”
“I’ll read it first and see if it will be something our kids will be excited for,” she continued.
“I think you're going to like it,” I grinned.
She skimmed through the pages.
“I like it already,” she smiled back.
“When you are finished reading it can I come to your school? And do you order books?”
“You know what, you can because I think you will be great for our kids. Is your schedule be open? And, yes, we would order your book for the kids.”
“Yes, it is,” I beamed. My skin glowed even in the old recessed lighting and my heart did summersaults.
“I think that will be great.”
“Me too!!”
That day, I gained entry into three schools. I did well; most of the librarians worked at schools for younger kids and they were getting riddled with information packets, order forms with some companies even offering books for only a dollar.
[SIDEBAR]
My heart skipped another beat. I thought it was going to have me out of breath. I had to talk it into calming down. If I didn’t catch my breath we both were going to be in trouble.
OK! OK! Keep still, Heart!! We did great!
[END SIDEBAR]
On my way skipping out of the door a lady stopped me.
“Brandi, can you please sign your poster for my kids,” she asked. “You know, we usually don't have authors here.”
I take it as an honor, where do you want me to sign?
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Change of Heart
She said she wouldn’t do it. Absolutely not. No way. No how.
“I do not promote authors,” she said. “Once I promote one, they will all be coming knocking down the door.”
Listening intently to her, I tilted my head slightly to the side.
“I’ve been doing this for over 20 years, Brandi. And I treat everyone the same.”
I understand. Really, I did understand.
I traveled a long way to meet the head librarian. I needed to get information on how to continue to promote my own book. Being a dependent isn’t what I’m about. I’ll educate myself and keep moving.
Besides, it is MY project. It’s only going to work if I get behind it.
I held no qualms with this lady. She rose from her seat and told her secretary a few words. Looking down in my lap, rubbed my hands together and plucked at a button on my skirt.
She came back in and I looked up.
“Well, what’s your book about,” she asked with interest.
Figuring this was my window, I climbed through. She was only giving me a minute and I had to make the most of my time.
With wise words I told her about the story. She listened.
“You know what, I have a meeting tomorrow. All of my librarians from the entire district will be here to meet with me,” she told me.
Looking at her, I nodded my head for her to keep talking.
“I’ll talk to just a few about you and see what they say. Thanks for meeting me, and you have a nice day, but I just don’t promote authors. I don’t have the time.”
Politely, I thanked her. Before I left my seat I took a copy of my book and slid it closer to her on her desk.
“You can keep this copy,” I said.
“Well, thanks, I can show them this,” she said. “I’ll call you.”
I left my seat and walked out of the door. I did everything I could do, I told myself as I drove down the road. Networking here, networking there.
Confidently, I went after something I thought could help me.
This was just another lead that died. I’ll have to start fresh tomorrow and search for someone new. Try again, Brandi.
Just then when I pulled up to a red light, almost home my phone started ringing. I answered.
“Brandi, I want you to come to the meeting, you’ll be only one of two of my featured authors. And I really don’t do this, but I think there’s something different about you.”
Well, Thank You, I will be there.
“I do not promote authors,” she said. “Once I promote one, they will all be coming knocking down the door.”
Listening intently to her, I tilted my head slightly to the side.
“I’ve been doing this for over 20 years, Brandi. And I treat everyone the same.”
I understand. Really, I did understand.
I traveled a long way to meet the head librarian. I needed to get information on how to continue to promote my own book. Being a dependent isn’t what I’m about. I’ll educate myself and keep moving.
Besides, it is MY project. It’s only going to work if I get behind it.
I held no qualms with this lady. She rose from her seat and told her secretary a few words. Looking down in my lap, rubbed my hands together and plucked at a button on my skirt.
She came back in and I looked up.
“Well, what’s your book about,” she asked with interest.
Figuring this was my window, I climbed through. She was only giving me a minute and I had to make the most of my time.
With wise words I told her about the story. She listened.
“You know what, I have a meeting tomorrow. All of my librarians from the entire district will be here to meet with me,” she told me.
Looking at her, I nodded my head for her to keep talking.
“I’ll talk to just a few about you and see what they say. Thanks for meeting me, and you have a nice day, but I just don’t promote authors. I don’t have the time.”
Politely, I thanked her. Before I left my seat I took a copy of my book and slid it closer to her on her desk.
“You can keep this copy,” I said.
“Well, thanks, I can show them this,” she said. “I’ll call you.”
I left my seat and walked out of the door. I did everything I could do, I told myself as I drove down the road. Networking here, networking there.
Confidently, I went after something I thought could help me.
This was just another lead that died. I’ll have to start fresh tomorrow and search for someone new. Try again, Brandi.
Just then when I pulled up to a red light, almost home my phone started ringing. I answered.
“Brandi, I want you to come to the meeting, you’ll be only one of two of my featured authors. And I really don’t do this, but I think there’s something different about you.”
Well, Thank You, I will be there.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Wait! Susan’s what?! Nope, I don’t think so…
Oh, they have me mistaken!
I am Angela Davis. I am Nikki Giovanni. I am Kizzy Kinte.
I am Harriet Tubman. I am Afenni Shakur. I am Thug Life.
If something’s not going right, I will at least break a bottle in protest!
Maybe it’s my soft looks, voice, or demeanor but the people are confused.
I admit, my generation is soft. We don’t fight for anything.
The man can fire 45 professors and we would sit back and say, “I didn’t like him anyway.”
We want handouts. Well, I am not that person. I’ll take what I want.
All these thoughts went through my head as I sat in the Superintendent’s office.
I walked up there myself. No one held my hand.
I wore a pair of black slacks and a crisp white shirt.
I looked polished and elegant like a doll.
My freshly suntanned skin glistened like a California girl who just came off the beach.
My hair left sweet ribbons of fresh shampoo in the air.
I even dashed myself with a hint of Ralph Lauren, Romance.
I felt and looked great.
Despite all the odds, I was sitting in the head guy’s office and I’d bypassed a bunch of goon middlemen. I knew I was supposed to be here. He’s a busy man, and doesn’t spend much time on anything because he has so many things to do.
But here I was, sitting for the last 30 minutes right across from him, comfortable like we grew up together.
I had my book “Crumb Snatchers” in my hand, fresh off the press. I did everything to my book on my own, with no resources but my brain. No one like me was supposed to make it this far, not even past his secretary.
Only big named authors, with big money was supposed to be sitting back, relaxed with the Superintendent, who has the power and money to say weather he wants your book in his schools.
I’d already handed off my book to his head reading curriculum personnel to be read.
She brought back her report early. I was happy for that. I sat back and ran his expensive $100 ink pen I plucked from his memos through my bony fingers.
The Superintendent was making important calls. Important calls for me.
As I listened in, I could hear the delight in his voice when he spoke of me to his other important friends. Important people know important people.
Each time he made a new call, he’d be so excited and say he had a young girl in his office.
“She has a book, and she did this, this, this, this and I think she’s going to go far. This is just precious,” he said, admiring my pictures from my very first book signing, my poise and confidence. And he was so proud.
I really started to like him. Until he made one more call.
He started the call to the “Dr… I have this young girl in my office, and she is impressive, genuine, what can we do to help her get her more opportunities.”
I dropped the ink pen. I’m saying to myself, I am a gangster.
If you ask a gangster if I am a gangster; they will acknowledge me.
I’m A business-woman. And I take care of mine.
I have no fears, no doubts. I’m pretty but, nobody better not touch me.
I abide by the G-Code. 100. This is my creed.
And now the Superintendent is going awestruck like I’m the belle of the ball at a Sweet 16 debut. I did tell him I earned my M.A. That took me five years of hard, hard work at school!
For the most part, I passed 16!
On one hand, my mom passed down dimples to me, and cheeks that flush rose when I blush. And my aunt handed me a slender figure, the stuff you can see on runways ran by youngsters.
Yet, this is no kid stuff. I need to get this book deal. This is my life. I plan to live my dream.
The way I see it, I am not Lil’ Bran, Precious, Sweetie or Susan’s Lil’ girl anymore for that matter. I am Brandi. That’s B.R.A.N.D.I., and I am about to take over the world!
People can’t call me Susan’s lil’ girl anymore!
I remember a lady around 60, who hit her husband on his shoulder and identified me as Susan’s lil’ girl to get him to by a book, she can’t do that.
The world takes big dogs seriously. I just look like a lamb, but I am really a lioness.
He hung up the phone looked at me and smiled. Then he handed over a card that turned into another guy giving me a check.
“You have the book deal, and go to all of my other schools and they will support you too, sweetie. Tell them I sent you,” he said with pride as if I was one of his kids he helped raised.
I sat in amazement and forgot everything. All I heard was, "go to all of my schools."
“You’re young and you’re going to go far,” he told me.
He looked deep in my eyes and I knew he looked past my pupils, past their connecting veins to something further.
I looked at the digits for the check and changed my mind.
I figured my new best supporter could refer to me as Susan’s lil’ girl anytime.
Hey, you can’t knock the hustle.
I am Angela Davis. I am Nikki Giovanni. I am Kizzy Kinte.
I am Harriet Tubman. I am Afenni Shakur. I am Thug Life.
If something’s not going right, I will at least break a bottle in protest!
Maybe it’s my soft looks, voice, or demeanor but the people are confused.
I admit, my generation is soft. We don’t fight for anything.
The man can fire 45 professors and we would sit back and say, “I didn’t like him anyway.”
We want handouts. Well, I am not that person. I’ll take what I want.
All these thoughts went through my head as I sat in the Superintendent’s office.
I walked up there myself. No one held my hand.
I wore a pair of black slacks and a crisp white shirt.
I looked polished and elegant like a doll.
My freshly suntanned skin glistened like a California girl who just came off the beach.
My hair left sweet ribbons of fresh shampoo in the air.
I even dashed myself with a hint of Ralph Lauren, Romance.
I felt and looked great.
Despite all the odds, I was sitting in the head guy’s office and I’d bypassed a bunch of goon middlemen. I knew I was supposed to be here. He’s a busy man, and doesn’t spend much time on anything because he has so many things to do.
But here I was, sitting for the last 30 minutes right across from him, comfortable like we grew up together.
I had my book “Crumb Snatchers” in my hand, fresh off the press. I did everything to my book on my own, with no resources but my brain. No one like me was supposed to make it this far, not even past his secretary.
Only big named authors, with big money was supposed to be sitting back, relaxed with the Superintendent, who has the power and money to say weather he wants your book in his schools.
I’d already handed off my book to his head reading curriculum personnel to be read.
She brought back her report early. I was happy for that. I sat back and ran his expensive $100 ink pen I plucked from his memos through my bony fingers.
The Superintendent was making important calls. Important calls for me.
As I listened in, I could hear the delight in his voice when he spoke of me to his other important friends. Important people know important people.
Each time he made a new call, he’d be so excited and say he had a young girl in his office.
“She has a book, and she did this, this, this, this and I think she’s going to go far. This is just precious,” he said, admiring my pictures from my very first book signing, my poise and confidence. And he was so proud.
I really started to like him. Until he made one more call.
He started the call to the “Dr… I have this young girl in my office, and she is impressive, genuine, what can we do to help her get her more opportunities.”
I dropped the ink pen. I’m saying to myself, I am a gangster.
If you ask a gangster if I am a gangster; they will acknowledge me.
I’m A business-woman. And I take care of mine.
I have no fears, no doubts. I’m pretty but, nobody better not touch me.
I abide by the G-Code. 100. This is my creed.
And now the Superintendent is going awestruck like I’m the belle of the ball at a Sweet 16 debut. I did tell him I earned my M.A. That took me five years of hard, hard work at school!
For the most part, I passed 16!
On one hand, my mom passed down dimples to me, and cheeks that flush rose when I blush. And my aunt handed me a slender figure, the stuff you can see on runways ran by youngsters.
Yet, this is no kid stuff. I need to get this book deal. This is my life. I plan to live my dream.
The way I see it, I am not Lil’ Bran, Precious, Sweetie or Susan’s Lil’ girl anymore for that matter. I am Brandi. That’s B.R.A.N.D.I., and I am about to take over the world!
People can’t call me Susan’s lil’ girl anymore!
I remember a lady around 60, who hit her husband on his shoulder and identified me as Susan’s lil’ girl to get him to by a book, she can’t do that.
The world takes big dogs seriously. I just look like a lamb, but I am really a lioness.
He hung up the phone looked at me and smiled. Then he handed over a card that turned into another guy giving me a check.
“You have the book deal, and go to all of my other schools and they will support you too, sweetie. Tell them I sent you,” he said with pride as if I was one of his kids he helped raised.
I sat in amazement and forgot everything. All I heard was, "go to all of my schools."
“You’re young and you’re going to go far,” he told me.
He looked deep in my eyes and I knew he looked past my pupils, past their connecting veins to something further.
I looked at the digits for the check and changed my mind.
I figured my new best supporter could refer to me as Susan’s lil’ girl anytime.
Hey, you can’t knock the hustle.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Sweet Surprise
I’m back now. My first blog of 2010. Hooray!
Thinking back, I remember the day well. It was my Godson’s birthday.
For at least an hour I went back and forth in my head about what I should get him.
I decided to send him a card and a copy of my new book, “Crumb Snatchers.”
Anytime I give someone something I love to give them the coolest gifts.
Give nice, receive nice, is my motto.
I didn’t think much of the gift. Well, I thought he would think the money was cooler.
I figured I’d just slide him the book.
I knew some kids wanted my book but I didn’t think he would read it with a little girl on the cover.
You know, he’s at that age, 10, and he’s a boy’s boy, a tough boy.
If a little girl’s on the cover, he may not read it, or at least I thought.
A few months passed and he sent a message to me over the Christmas holidays.
He told me his teacher wanted to meet me.
I thought nothing of it – my mood was down and after the first school picked up my book random people wanted to see me more all the time anyway. Following your dreams is sometimes tough. I felt a little down and out.
I was grateful, busy, sick and halfway wanted to go.
I figured I would put seeing her on my list of things to do.
After I slept on the idea the next day, my Godson sent me another message.
I put seeing his teacher a little higher up on my list.
I wanted to let him know he’s important and I would do the things he asks me to do.
The next free Monday morning I had, I went unannounced to my Godson’s school and met with his teacher. (I figured if she requested me, I was invited anyway.)
She had a copy of my book and told me she enjoyed reading my work. I thanked her for the compliment.
I was a bit shocked because I didn’t recall selling her a book.
She told me my Godson brought her his personal copy after seeing me on a newsletter at the school.
I instantly smiled because I remember giving him that book over the summer for his birthday.
Things were working in my favor. In our favor.
The teacher asked me to do a reading for the kids.
I hesitated a bit because I was just getting over bad congestion and hardly had a voice.
She told me my Godson was coming in the next class.
I figured it would be a nice surprise. I wanted to see him anyway.
I agreed to stay and talk. Besides I have learned, anything going great, don’t interfere, let it continue…
The teacher went to get the kids. I stayed behind and sat in a small corner.
A few minutes passed and the door opened wide. The first kid to walk through was my Godson. His little eyes lit up.
My eyes lit up. His look gave me instant energy. We hugged.
And everyone else filled the classroom in with little amazed looks on their faces.
I now had the floor. It’s show time. I introduced myself and caught the approving glance on my Godson’s face. That was the confidence I needed. I read a snippet of my book and fielded intelligent questions for the next 30 minutes.
The day really started to turn out fun! The kids wanted more.
I met with the librarian and the school placed an order for my books.
I left the school just amazed. I went from being in a bad state, lacking motivation and not wanting to go to another school to instantly being put back up on top of the world. All off the voice of one little kid and a birthday gift!
I think I’m more honored for him to pull me up out of the ashes at just 10, than he is honored for his Godmother to be a best-selling author.
I can’t decide. One thing I know for sure is that he helped me remember that this is my destiny.
Thinking back, I remember the day well. It was my Godson’s birthday.
For at least an hour I went back and forth in my head about what I should get him.
I decided to send him a card and a copy of my new book, “Crumb Snatchers.”
Anytime I give someone something I love to give them the coolest gifts.
Give nice, receive nice, is my motto.
I didn’t think much of the gift. Well, I thought he would think the money was cooler.
I figured I’d just slide him the book.
I knew some kids wanted my book but I didn’t think he would read it with a little girl on the cover.
You know, he’s at that age, 10, and he’s a boy’s boy, a tough boy.
If a little girl’s on the cover, he may not read it, or at least I thought.
A few months passed and he sent a message to me over the Christmas holidays.
He told me his teacher wanted to meet me.
I thought nothing of it – my mood was down and after the first school picked up my book random people wanted to see me more all the time anyway. Following your dreams is sometimes tough. I felt a little down and out.
I was grateful, busy, sick and halfway wanted to go.
I figured I would put seeing her on my list of things to do.
After I slept on the idea the next day, my Godson sent me another message.
I put seeing his teacher a little higher up on my list.
I wanted to let him know he’s important and I would do the things he asks me to do.
The next free Monday morning I had, I went unannounced to my Godson’s school and met with his teacher. (I figured if she requested me, I was invited anyway.)
She had a copy of my book and told me she enjoyed reading my work. I thanked her for the compliment.
I was a bit shocked because I didn’t recall selling her a book.
She told me my Godson brought her his personal copy after seeing me on a newsletter at the school.
I instantly smiled because I remember giving him that book over the summer for his birthday.
Things were working in my favor. In our favor.
The teacher asked me to do a reading for the kids.
I hesitated a bit because I was just getting over bad congestion and hardly had a voice.
She told me my Godson was coming in the next class.
I figured it would be a nice surprise. I wanted to see him anyway.
I agreed to stay and talk. Besides I have learned, anything going great, don’t interfere, let it continue…
The teacher went to get the kids. I stayed behind and sat in a small corner.
A few minutes passed and the door opened wide. The first kid to walk through was my Godson. His little eyes lit up.
My eyes lit up. His look gave me instant energy. We hugged.
And everyone else filled the classroom in with little amazed looks on their faces.
I now had the floor. It’s show time. I introduced myself and caught the approving glance on my Godson’s face. That was the confidence I needed. I read a snippet of my book and fielded intelligent questions for the next 30 minutes.
The day really started to turn out fun! The kids wanted more.
I met with the librarian and the school placed an order for my books.
I left the school just amazed. I went from being in a bad state, lacking motivation and not wanting to go to another school to instantly being put back up on top of the world. All off the voice of one little kid and a birthday gift!
I think I’m more honored for him to pull me up out of the ashes at just 10, than he is honored for his Godmother to be a best-selling author.
I can’t decide. One thing I know for sure is that he helped me remember that this is my destiny.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
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