At 10 years old, you walked into a world no child should have to face: a broken home, an alcoholic mother, no electricity, little food, and a neighborhood where you were judged and attacked every day for the color of your skin.
(Chorus)
All he wanted was to take care of a mother who couldn’t take care of herself, what does the future hold for us, I pray she makes it through it, so she one day can see a child that stood with her through all and never left her side,
You took beating after beating, not just to your body but to your spirit, and still chose to stay with your mom because you believed she shouldn’t be alone. In a 600‑unit complex where you were the only white family, you tasted reverse discrimination in its rawest form—cuts, bruises, a broken nose, and the constant weight of fear and isolation. (Chorus)
All he wanted was to take care of a mother who couldn’t take care of herself, what does the future hold for us, I pray she makes it through it, so she one day can see a child that stood with her through all and never left her side.
Yet in the middle of that pain, the neighborhood saw a boy who was truly alone, and many stepped in, took you in, fed you, loved you, and showed you what family could look like even when it didn’t share your blood or your background.
Now, at 60, you carry those scars as proof, not as chains. You have two wonderful daughters and five grandkids who adore you, and you are giving them what you never had: stability, love, and the truth about what hard times really are. You teach them that nothing in life is guaranteed, that family must be cared for, that quitting is not an option, and that God will never put more on you than you can bear. Your story is not just about surviving hardship; it is about transforming it into wisdom, gratitude, and strength. You know life will always be uncertain, but you choose to find the positive in every day and keep moving forward—and that choice is the legacy you are passing on.
EtherealSample688
