The Power of One

Back when I was about eight or nine years old I vaguely remember tell Miss Bledsoe my social worker that I wanted to grow up and be just like her. I wanted to grew up and be just like her and drive a white car with the same color of interior as her.
I never saw her after that. She just seemed to vanish like so many other people like the doctors and nurses who had come and gone through out my entire life. It was one of the saddest times in my life because I still believed that she was one day going to take me back home to where my friend Nancy was. She was my only link to the only home that I had ever known. She never did return.
My pining went on for what seemed like for eons. It sometimes seemed like it would never end.

When I was about fourteen I do remember telling my mom that I wanted to grow up and become a social worker and that I wanted to work in policy and development. She asked why I wanted to work in this career and why I was being so specific. I told her that I still want to be just like Miss Bledsoe and that I never wanted another child to go through the same thing that I had and still was going through and that thanks to my grade five teacher I was beginning to understand were I could make changes. She really encouraged my to tell my story and continue on with my education.
Forty years later I am doing just that. What is so cool about this is that i choose to call this writing new beginning and just two days ago my boss told me that is the exact meaning of what NIL/TU,O means