"We raised your father in a shack here in Carolina, I used to wash and iron the clothes of rich people whilst your abuelo sang at weddings and even concerts"
she continued
" we were poor but we never went to bed hungry even our son Marco thought we had everything" she explained
I listened attentively not daring to even ask questions because everything she said always explain itself
"when Marco was five years old we sent him to school, it was there that he realized he was different and that other kids had more than he did" my grandmother gave a cold shrug "we did all we could and at most it was enough until he went to school, every child there dressed more smarter than he did, they had better looking schoolbags and had more scrumptious lunches and he only had to go to school in hands
