I looked through the shard of glass that lay in my hand only to find the person who had been holding me back all of these years, stoping me from doing what I truly wanted to do, making me believe I was worthless staring back at me. I was looking into a broken mirror and I was seeing me.

This was the “Cordillera”. What sort of person names a Mirror, I know. But my mother did and she named it after her mother, my grandmother. The mirror was found my grandma fifty years ago at a time of great need. Grandma grew up poor and thus had never had the privilege to own a mirror. The day she found the looking-glass, fully conditioned, in the dumpster was the day her mother , my great-grandmother, had fatally past away. She was only young but this mirror help her realise that miracles really could happen. And yes, finding a mirror, at least for her, was a miracle. I gave her the courage to carry on.