“ Don’t bite my mom,” I would tell my dad (step-dad). I was only two or three years old and I was already trying to protect those I love the most. My mom and dad meet through one of my dad’s cousin that use to take care of me. My mom always tells me how I always tried to be a big girl and act tough no matter who I was up against. She always tells me how she remembers that I always want to help those around me. Her first memory of me trying to help someone was when we were at the park one day and I saw a homeless man. I asked her why he looked like that and so she told me why he looked dirty and unwashed. After telling me all of that I told her if I could take one of the sandwiches and drinks that we had brought with us. She said yes and so
