Four years rolled by and I was now five, and still 1 helpless as a newly born baby. 2 my father was out at bricklaying, earning the
bread and butter for us, Mother was slowly, patiently pulling 3 the wall, brick by brick, that seemed to stand
4 me and the other children, slowly,
patiently penetrating beyond the thick curtain 5
hung over my mind, separating it 6
theirs. It was hard, heartbreaking work, for often all she got
from me in 7 was a vague smile and
perhaps 8 faint gurgle. I could not
speak or even mumble, 9 could I sit up
on my own without support, 10 alone
walk. But I wasn’t inert or motionless.