Chapter seventeen

My mother's love.

There was nothing in the wide world like her talent.

Desiree knew how to do a little of everything, or rather, she learned how to do it. I grew up watching her create things like newspaper baskets, pantyhose flowers and fridge magnets. She loved the craft. She had never gone beyond the limits of the state of Goiás, lost in the cerrado like someone who didn't know the vast world in which she lived. But the whole world seemed to be there, inside our house. It didn't matter if she didn't know the sound of the oceans or the touch of the sea, or had never learned another language besides Portuguese, what she wanted to learn, she learned. He sat in his rocking chair, already worn out, and only got up from there when his mission was over. I have never met a more talented and intelligent woman than her. Creating a career like this, learning and teaching other women to earn their own income from handicrafts.

The house is full of his creations, on the walls, furniture, picture