Brown Girl Dreaming

other people’s memory Jacqueline Woodson You were born in the morning,¬†Grandma Georgiana said. I remember the sound of the birds. Mean old blue jays squawking. They like to fight, you know. Don’t mess with blue jays! I hear they can kill a cat if they get mad enough. And then the phone was ringing. Through all that static and squawking, I heard your mama telling me you’d come. Another girl, I stood there thinking, so close to the first one. Just like your mama and  ...

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