I must do my homework before Manman and Moy return. Then I must go to the fork in the road and help Manman carry the provisions she has brought home from the market. I wish I had gotten you sooner, sweet little book. But as Manman always says, you cannot chew before you have teeth. Maybe Madame Auguste was waiting for me to know how to use you before giving you to me. I will “chew on you” later.

LATER

I am writing behind our house, by the light of our kerosene lamp. Manman and Moy are asleep. I sneaked out to the cooking shed where the three large rocks we use to hold our pots are still warm from the fire Moy had made for Manman to prepare our supper. In spite of Moy having poured half a calabash of water on the cooking sticks, there are a few cinders left in the ashes, small pieces of wood glowing red before collapsing into a heap of white soot.

I love to watch the ashes, especially at night. It’s like finding stars on the ground, an extraordinary thing to observe in an ordinary place, the place where we cook our food.

Our house is not big, but we are very proud of it because my father built it himself many years ago. Papa was proud of this house, too, when he was here. He told everyone who made a compliment about the house, “I built it with my two hands.”

Papa had refused help from his neighbors and friends because he wanted to prove to Manman’s parents—Granmè Melina and Granpè Nozial—that he was worthy of her. This is why we have stayed here in this same house since Papa left even though he sends us money from New York and we could afford a place in the city, like Papa’s sister, Tante Rose.

Our house has two rooms. The front room is for us to receive guests. It’s also where Moy sleeps. The back room is for Manman and Papa, but now I sleep with Manman in her and Papa’s bed. (When Papa was here, I slept on a sisal mat on the floor next to the bed.)

Our house is in a village called Beau Jour. It is a tiny village on top of a mountain. Beau Jour is on the middle mountain of a range of four mountains that we can see in every direction. I learned from my geography lesson that the name of this country, Haiti, comes from the Arawak Indian word Ayiti, which means mountainous land or land on high.

There is also a proverb that says, “Behind the mountains are more mountains.” This is certainly true because our house is on a mountain, but not the tallest one. Some mountains are bigger and taller still.