You were only seven when you went blind,
But could see again in less than two years,
Two years later you were seeking to find,
Full time work to help your mom ease her fears.

Eight brothers and sisters home, and dad dead,
From fascists' caresses in dark, dank cells,
You rolled up your sleeves without tears or dread,
Worked full time packing fish and working wells.

At sixteen you left for a foreign shore,
Worked hard, learned to read, saved all that you could,
To pay mom’s passage and two brothers more,
Keeping a promise as you knew you would.

Of your son you were as proud as can be,
But one of your cells was worth ten of me.