Dear Grace.
I have just finished reading your story and I am sitting here staring out my window and thinking about my own life and how I. like you, was transported from one world into a completely different one.
For some reason adults always feel young people can adjust to anything.
We are supposed to be more resilient. We can take it, take the battle to find new friends, to adjust to different settings, different rules, different styles. whatever.
For me, it was even more dramatic than that. Grace.
I lived in a place known as Cajun country in Louisiana and our world was and is so different from the rest of the world around us I sometimes felt as if I was really on a different planet.
We had our own music and our own way of cooking, talking, even thinking. I suppose.
My grandmother was what we called a Traiteur, a faith healer, but also very wise with natural remedies.
She was a very wise woman who could read shadows and clouds.
I thought she could hear the voices in the wind.
We lived in the swamps and fished and trapped.
Grandma and I sold whatever we could, but soon I was selling my art and it was through my art. that I began to see beyond my home, my life, and my own dreams. There were many secrets in my life-- dark, hidden things that I didn't learn for a very long time, just like you One involved my grandparents, for they weren't living together and I never really understood why.
My grandfather was quite a swamp character and lived in what is known as a tooth-peg-legged shack.
He could read the water, know where the snakes were, when an alligator would come up, where the fish gathered, but he was mainly a trapper and I guess a drunk.
What made me read your story with wonder was the way I. like you, suddenly found myself in a world completely alien to me. I was there to find my father. And, most importantly, someone even more significant in my life. I always knew who my mother was and where she was buried.
Anyone who starts my story will find it rich in details about life in the swamps. and I'm sure he or she will feel as if he or she is traveling to another country.
Every once in a while I had to tell myself I was still in America.
When I left the swamps I went to New Orleans. and I discovered that it was a city filled with rich history.
Whenever anyone thinks of New Orleans they think of jazz, of course, and also of voodoo.
Yes. I was involved in that, too, and it turned out to be something that had a dramatic effect on my life and where I eventually ended up.
Mine wasn't just a trip from ordinary life to the world of the very wealthy.
It was a journey through mysterious back roads of family history.
Like you. I had to learn so many new things about daily life. fashion, and social behavior, and
like you. I had people around me who did not want me to be there.
Unlike you. I had someone to return to in my original world. I had a life I couldn't let go of and I had to make a full circle.
Even so. I made new discoveries about people and places thought I had always understood,
Sometimes, Grace, as you know, the things and the people we hold most dear and closest to us wear faces that are not true.
There are layers and layers beneath and finding them, confronting them, can be very painful. It was for me,
But I should let you read my story for yourself. It begins in the Cajun swamp world as I said.
Don't let me leave you thinking this is a world of poverty and superstition.