I was forever hearing about the sacrifices
My parents made.
Little ones almost daily
Big ones when required.
Having me meant sacrifices. Going without.
And then to cap it all, the Scholarship:
School uniforms, violin lessons,
Elocution, extra tuition.
‘If it’s not one thing it’s another.
I hope you’re worth it.’ But was I?
The dictionary confirmed my doubts:
‘Sacrifice, a ritual killing of a person
or animal with the intention of pleasing a deity.’
Sacrifice. No, I wasn’t worth it.
All that blood for a few O-levels.