I met this Jamaican family 13 years ago..  i was walking to a church to do some photo work when i walked by this family, a pregant mom holding a baby, two little ones running around , and three girls at a fence calling me to come over... .. they all invited me in..  it was the first time i was so up close and personal to extreme poverty.  there was a hole in the floor , one could see right through to the dirt and trash underneath.  a family of 7 shared one bed..... one marble notebook was shared by three for school   ..  unprovoked  i helped to provide some food and atibiotics for a skck child and a piece of slab missing for ther roof where the rain poured in. i  took a number to call them from the states so i could send supplies,   i called and looked for them many times over the years and and never could find them or get a response to the call.... but i always thought of them. they felt like family

After 12 years i gave up.  Then unexpectantly  i went back to Jamaica in 2022 and lo and behold through a photo and a few people was given the route back to find her. it's a long story of tears and disbelief... a miracle of sorts...  the girls had grown... i have since helped with school  and a cook shop for them to work and earn money and take pride..i speak to them all every week,  this family has become woven into the fabric of my life and me into  theirs.. The kids, even the older ones call me Aunty Nina. We are bonded forever, and  family, even if we are not of the same blood