Growing up in the Bronx on Jerome Avenue by Fordham Road, Alicia was the type of Puerto Rican girl who believed that life is what you make of it. She was raised by her mother Mariposa who had been abandoned by Alicia’s father when she was just a baby.
When the news came that you were having my child
I had deep emotions words just couldn’t explain
The joy I felt it really touched feelings inside
I’m so glad that you’re my wife
Just close your eyes and feel the breeze
Can't you feel your living in a world of ageless time
Where there’s bitterness in the air over flown with out peace
With only worry or no-one to care, except for you my child, for you are one of my own
A child who cries at night, is a child in pain.
For every tear that falls, is a memory that has bin regained.
As saddness and depression and happiness, that semms so far away.
Someone please help this child; cause this child is in pain.
Will you for a little while, take care of a child god said,
to cherish for when he is with you,
and mourn for when he is dead.
He may be six or seven years,
Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child. The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife.
A child of the fifties was an innocent child. A child of the sixties was a starry eyed flower child and a child of the seventies was a disco child. The child of the present day is a troubled child.