I grew up in a town that had only one set of traffic lights and a sugar cane factory. Everyday to get to school, me and my dad had to wait at the railway crossing for the steam locomotives that transported the sugar cane from the field to the factory, to drop off the full wagons at the gate and go back to bring some more. Sometimes the waiting was longer and I had so many questions for my dad to answer! My dad is still one of the most intelligent persons I know, and I used to listen to him attentively. We developed a very close relationship. 

Occasionally, after school time, my parents would forget to pick me up, and I was left for hours (or that’s what it felt like) outside the director’s office. All my classmates were collected on time by their parents and I was there alone, not knowing what to do, so I used to sit on the floor and wait. Eventually one of my parents would turn up. I remember one time the director, who was a lovely lady, took me to her house and gave me lunch. I often wonder what meaning that little girl gave to that incident. Did she feel alone or abandoned?