My mother first taught me to gaze at the sky as a child. She reminded me that we were living an abundant life because we had the sky, the rain, and the trees surrounding us and talking to us. I want to be clear that we were part of the working poor immigrant families of the late 70s and 80s. I was too young to understand that concept fully. For me I had everything. Everything in the sky. I thought and still think that the wind is my closest relative, talking to me in so many ways every time I step out the door.

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