vicbaby_18

Hello my name is Mary bagudu and this is my story.
      when you're life was complete , thinking with your family by your side u can conquer any difficulties but not every prayer is answered by God .
      first it started with my mom and one by one u keep losing everyone u hold dear and your suppose relatives instead of giving you love and care, the turn you to a slave.
      my story looks a bit like Cinderella but different and real life experience so buckle up and stay with every stage of my life .

the life of a black woman

Mary never forgot where she came from—because the pain had shaped her, and the kindness had saved her. So even before she reached the mountaintop, she began to reach back.

Her first act of giving wasn't big. It was a small gift—a bar of soap and two pencils she wrapped in paper and gave to a quiet girl at the weekend classes who never brought materials.

The girl looked at her with wide eyes. "Why?"

Mary smiled. "Because someone once helped me too."

Word spread slowly—about the girl who could sew, who was rising, who hadn't let life crush her. Younger girls began to come to her for help with their schoolwork, or just to talk. And Mary listened. She remembered what it felt like to be invisible. She made sure no one felt that way around her.

One afternoon, she stitched a simple dress out of leftover fabric and gave it to a neighbor's daughter who always wore torn clothes. The child twirled in the tiny yard, laughing, and Mary felt something deeper than joy.

Even her teacher, Mrs. Raymond, noticed.

"You're becoming the kind of woman who changes others," she told Mary one day. "And that's a gift."

Mary began to tutor two girls from her area in reading and math. She used her own notebooks, her own time, her own energy. Not for praise. Not for show.

And with every small act, Mary healed a little more. Because giving wasn't just for others—it was for her. It reminded her that she wasn't a victim anymore. She was someone capable of creating change.

One afternoon, she returned to Mr. Tumba's shop with food she had bought using her sewing earnings.

"You've done so much for me," she said.

He looked at her and smiled, his eyes full of pride.

"You're becoming everything I hoped you would be."

Mary knew she wasn't done yet. Her journey was still unfolding. But now, she wasn't climbing alone. She was lifting others with her.

That was her way of saying thank you—to those who had believed in her…

…and to the little girl she used to be.

Giving Back