Her name is Wilhelmina but she prefers to be called "Billie." Her first memory was when she was only two years old; Daddy’s hand came down on her – hard! She doesn’t remember what she did but assumes it was the reason he abandoned her and Momma. Billie also believes that she was a difficult child because Momma was often angry, there was a lot of yelling . . .

In kindergarten Billie easily lost her temper. Why wouldn’t the other kids do things her way? She once broke a little boy’s nose when ‘he was looking at her’!

Billie soon learned that the other kids had traditions. She wanted a birthday party too, and Momma said yes. The entire class was invited! She pretended not to care when nobody came. "It’s just as well," she told herself. Momma was drunk and would have embarrassed her . . . again!

Momma never went to the parent/teacher meetings. In the back row up on stage at the concerts, she scanned the audience in anticipation for Momma’s face, but never found it. It was the same with sports: any achievement went unnoticed . . . and unappreciated.

Billie had come to despise school, she felt as stupid as the others said she was. And when she wasn’t suspended she often skipped school. Being big for her age helped her blend in with the older kids. Smoking became a habit when she was eleven. But she never got into the booze, afraid of becoming like her mom.

In class most of Billie’s time was spent doodling or sketching — the only thing that brought any peace. But in grade nine there was a teacher who was different from the others. Instead of crumpling it up and throwing it away, he recognised her talent. It was even put on display in the art room! He and his wife owned a small gallery and allowed Billie to work there part time . . . on the condition that she finished school. How could they fully realise how much, as mentors, they changed Billie’s world?