I grew up quite poor.
we lived in the hills in aplace my brothers but from things they found.
(metal sheeting plywood)
When it rained. it smelled like hay
we were always hungry.
But there was a lucuma tree，scrawny barely alive.
My family had given up onit years before
never bone fruit
When I was eight years old.
I became fixated on it
I watered it. tended to it，it took along time，but the buds grew into green fruit.
I was so proud. I didn't tell anyone.
I plucked one and hid behind our shack.
I ate the whole thing.
I'd never tasted something so sweet.
It was like caramel.
At first，we ate the fruit ourselves.
and then I began taking it to the village to sell.
But one day，much of the fruit was gone from my tree.
piece were scattered on the ground half-eaten.
I thought it was probably a coati.
I built a snare using brancges and wire.
It didn't take long for the animal to set it off
But the coati thrashed so hard，it broke out of the snare…broke its leg，as well
I tried to grab it. but it slipped away.
It ran under the house.
I knew it wound show it self sooner or later.
So I waited…for hours，into the night.
when my brother called me，I did not answer，I did not make a sound.
I was so still.
Finally，it came out.
It knew I was there，but it was hungry.
This time，I was ready，I caught it.
It fought me. but I was stronger.
The merciful thing would have been to kill it.
I kept it. It lived for quite some time.
