long ago, a little girl locked herself in a dark store room, threw herself on a stack of old cotton mattresses, and sobbed as if her heart was broken. she had discovered, and there was no doubt about it, that something she had suspected for years, was true - her mother loved her brother best. actually she wasn't even sure her mother loved her at all.
'i wish i was never born in this family,' she wept, and her tears soaked wet stains into the musty cloth under her, 'i wish i had the guts to run away from home, i wish i was dead.'
and finally, when there were no more tears left, just deep deep pain, she swore that when she had children of her own, she would love them all the same.
that girl was 11 then, or maybe 12.
back then she had cried for the little girl she was. now the pain is for another girl, just like her... a little girl who cannot see that a mother might not love both her children the same, but that did not mean that she loved one more and the other less.
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