Analysis Of Between The Pool And The Gardenias

(Inserting scene to “Between the Pool and the Gardenias”.

This would be the opening scene to the story. ) July 27, 1962, 3:42 AM, an explosion of my mother’s cry fills my ears. I am fresh out of my mother’s whom. I open my eyes for the first time to see bright lights greet my eyes. An older woman with wrinkled skin carries me away from my mother. She pulls me close in towards her face and begins to say a prayer. “Lord bless this baby, my only granddaughter, to somehow survive in this world. Please! I cannot bear to see what will be done to this baby when her mother finds out she is a female!” she whispers into my naked stomach. A freezing tear falls from her crystal eye and lands on my tummy. She wraps my naked body into some type of pink

“This cannot happen!” my mother shouts as she begins to emotionally fall apart.” First I was forced into having this child and now she’ll have to grow up in a place where men can do whatever they want to us? I cannot let that happen to my baby!” The wrinkled woman takes me back into her arms and begins to slowly rock me back and forth. She tucks some of the pink cloth into my tiny, sensible ears to block out all of the yelling that are going on. At this point, I do not know what to expect in my future. All I know right now is that I am beyond tired of the light burning my eyes and I just need to close them. Eventually, my eyes grow endearingly heavy and I doze off into a very deep

My eyes quickly open and I notice that my mother is holding me above a fire in the center of our hut that she must have made from sticks and stones. She begins to plea, ¨God; please forgive me for this unsympathetic act. It is just that I cannot allow my baby girl to go through all of the pain and torture that she will if she is alive. She deserves more than what Haiti has to offer her! ¨. I begin to cry and scream, wishing that someone would barge through the door to save me. I know that no one would hear my cries for help because I am just a baby who does not even know how to speak. Before my mother has a chance to drop me into the fire, the old wrinkled woman comes through the door and rushes towards us. She grabs me and gently places my head on her shoulder so that I could not see anything that is going on around me. She storms out of the hut where my broken mother was crying and begins to rock me back and forth. Once again, I fall back to