Tuesday, December 1974

Chips...That was one word that remained foreign to my tongue. Not that I'm unaware of what it is. Its just that, I never had the luxury to  indulge myself in one. I used to pass-by a store when I was younger. Kids lined impatiently just to buy the most famous Nacho cheese Doritos. It has been a hit in the market during my younger years, and oh how I longed to have a taste of it. Sadly, my status in life couldn't make that possible.

But all that changed because of Wilma, or so I thought.

See, Wilma started to accompany me after class ever since she and I met in the school infirmary, and she always had Doritos in one hand, and a bottle of coke on the other.

She brought some for me too, explaining how it might help me gain some weight.

Wilma then became an everyday companion and with her, came peace. The classroom bullying ceased when she started hanging out with me. She also thought me how to stand up from them. But that courage didn't come overnight. It took a while. She thought me how a girl must value her looks, because according to Wilma, a girl will often be denifined and judged by how they carry themselves. Meaning clothes, shoes, make up perfume and especially the hair.

Wilma was aware of my status in life. I never asked her how she knew, I assumed it was something she read from my files with her being part of the student body organisation.

Wilma made my middle school life a tad brighter and easier. She was a ball of sunshine. Her circle of friends was wide, and it spread out as far as  students from other schools. She was  smart and very very pretty. I never understood why I got her attention, or which part of my existence made her befriend me. Maybe she felt sorry for me? I never found out.

With Wilma's sudden appearance in my life, our family life also changed drastically by sheer luck.. Or so we thought.

Christmas came and so did the biggest surprise of my life. Our family's life to be accurate. See on the 23rd of December my father came home panting, his eyes are filled with tears. He was a tough man, and never in my life did I see him cry the way he did that day. He was wearing his usual black over all and helmet.

He opened the door to our small house, nearly destroying our new walls, courtesy of the money inside the brown envelope. Anyway, my father came bursting in, he beckoned for me and my mom to sit in our dining table. We were worried by the amount of tears and perspiration on his face. It was cold outside, but he has rivulets of perspiration which only meant he was running for quite some time.

My mom asked him what was wrong and that's when he pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket. On closer inspection, it was a lottery ticket. He won. My father just won the grand price of 100,000 dollars. I have to remind you that this was 1974, and that amount is equal to millions in our current time.

My mom jumped with joy, my dad with his tears cascading unashamedly on his cheek hugged her, raised her up nearly making her head hit our low rising ceiling and twirled her around like they were both some love struck teenager. I for the record, cried in silence. The first thing on my mind was, no more hunger.

On December 25th we celebrated Christmas like we never did before. I have never seen our table filled with a variety of food, spread on the table with out thrift, just for the three of us to indulge in. It was the best day of my life. My dad bought me a new pair of shoes as a Christmas present with the promise of more to come. He said we will soon leave our old house and move into a new neighbourhood, one that will give me, their daughter, the respect she deserves. His words made me spend the rest of that night in tears.

On January of 1975 my family and I moved into a housing subdivision called Alissandra. It was a walking distance from the high school which my father promised me to attend once I finished middle school.

The house we moved into was a Palace compared to our previous place. It was a two storey house with its own kitchen, dining room, living room, and four bedrooms. We also had a lawn. It was the best part that my mom loved. It was then, that I found out my mother's love for plants. She filled our lawn with various kinds of flower and assortments of colorful shrubs. It was the high light of our life.

My dad left his job as a garbage collector and started his own business. He and my mom opened a restaurant just outside our subdivision. It became a hit. People from different places purposefully visited their establishment. Though we never did figure out how they knew about it. Yes, my dad and mom did give out flyers before the grand opening, but the amount of people who responded was beyond our expectation. We never thought deeper into it, and just extended our heart felt gratitude to the people and to the god above.

When school resumed, I told Wilma all about what happened during Christmas break. She weeped and hugged me tight. She told me how happy she was, how lucky I was and how I should thank not just god or my family but someone else too.

I was so busy enjoying our talk, that her last words came as a whisper to my ear, which made me fail to hear them properly. I only answered yes to everything she said, not truy listening. If I did, maybe I would have known the truth.

Wilma remained by my side through out my middle school days. She guided me and thought me everything I needed to know about society, and how to deal with people from different walks of life. She often spoke older than her age, but I assumed it was because she was a smart girl.

On the day of our middle school graduation, Wilma gave me a gift. It was a pink box with a bow on top, and a pink lace tied around it. The box contained a pair of pink stilettos. It was by far the most gorgeous looking shoes I have ever laid eyes on. She said every girl should have a pair of shoe that they can be proud of.

Wilma bid me farewell when the ceremony ended. She refused to tell me which high school she was gong to attend, despite my grovelling pleads.

She walked away from me and my family, after giving a quick bow to my parents. I watched her form disappearing within the growing crowd of people. She gave one last look on my direction, waved her hand goodbye until she completely disappeared from my sight.

It will be 30 years before I see Wilma again and her words was the very reason, I started to journey back from everything that ever happened in my life.