We were named for the flowers in Grandma's Garden. Begonias, Violets and Daisies, and much like those flowers, we were showered with a love that rivaled sun-rays. We knew nothing of pain, or sorrow, or just how cruel the world could be until the day God saw fit to call Grandma on home. Her heart stopped two weeks after Daisy was born. My mother smoked us homeless two weeks after that. Now with Grandma gone and mommy on a constant crack high, it's up to me to keep our little family together, and you best believe I'll stop at nothing to do just that. My name is Begonia Brown. I am a 17-year-old hustler and this is my story. --JP Simmons
DOWNLOAD BEGONIA BROWN: A PHILADELPHIA STORY - JULIA PRESS SIMMONS
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