At the winter concert, a full year with out her, when I got off stage and changed out of my robe I had stood and looked around.

Families gathered next to their sons and daughters to congratulate them, give them roses, and praise them, but I stood alone my family beckoning me from the doors. They wanted nothing more then to leave, they never seem to care. I walked up to them, "Mother I think that I will just crash at Tía's place." With that said they left me. They ran like their life depended on it, like they could out run their disappointment, me. I disappointed them.

I stood in the doorway half in the worm comforting school hall and half in the howling wind that promised ice shards and hypothermia. Like my life, half all sunny and perfect, the other half I danced percaresly on the edge of taking my life. Most of the time everyone sees the sunny side of my life, but in reality I struggled with the dark side.

"Dear do come in, it is too dark out." An elderly woman named Tía, put her gnarled hand on my shoulder. "I know it's not the same," Tía held out a peace rose for me, "but please accept my rose and praise."

"Thank you Tía." The older woman put the rose in my hair as I tried to smile.

You see where I live it is tradition for a family to give a rose to its preforming child. Whether the child was in elementary or high school, whether they were in play, speech, choir, or band they would receive a rose. Most of the time White Peace roses were given as a symbol of love, prosperity, and growth in talent.

"Well child it is my job as a Tía to be family to all." She looked around the school hall. "Where is your family dear?"

"They left, you know how they are, 'Its too cold,' 'Its snowing,' 'Why do you do this to use.' They just don't like it here." I shrugged, "Well Tía I should get walking, it's a long way to home." I pulled my coat and hat on.

I felt some ones hand slip into mine, "Well dear its not that far to the Tía House." Tía held my hand in her gnarled one. "I know your drear grandmother would want you to stay in town and not wonder threw the country side." The older woman patted my shoulder.

Another thing you may want to know is this, this time last year before I went on stage I had gotten a call from my blood-aunt who had spoken quickly and choked on her tears, my grandmother had died.

The death of my grandmother was what triggered my family to drift apart. My aunt blamed me for forcing my grandmother to over exert herself so she could take the day off and come out to see me preform my first solo. My mother and father openly showed their distaste for me and cursed me over and over. My rock hard uncle who hadn't shed a tear when his wife had a miscarriage and died or when he lost his hand to an explosive in battle, had balled like a baby. But the most distraught was my grandfather, and me we had cried so much that we passed out and were transported to the hospital for dehydration.

But like every Tía whom I had met, the elderly woman had token me in after my family rejected me. (Do you guys have a Tía?) To every one Tía was an adoptive mother, grandmother, aunt, sister, whatever you need; she was always there to help.

Bundled up, the older woman and myself left the school and shuffled across the street to the Tía House, a place of safe haven for all. When we entered Tía offered me an empty room and told me to join her for tea.

Feeling slightly better I left my room and went down stairs to the crowded dining and living rooms, every surface was covered with tea cups and plates of food as others socialized. Those that were at the Tía House were homeless, poor, runaways, or people who wanted some reassurance or peace of mind. The locale Tía would never send someone off, there was always food, warmth and friendly smiles waiting for you.

I edged around the rooms trying not to be noticed, but failed terribly. Everyone stopped and greeted me, they wished me a 'Happy What-ever-dosen't-affend-you.' I really didn't like the attention, but if you spend enough time at the Tía House then you kind of get some popularity, and considering that I practically lived at the Tía House I had become well known for lots of things, and learned lots of things. After about an hour of speaking politely to everyone I forced my way into the cook room, where I could rest in relative peace until everyone left for bed.

I sat huddled but the stove fire and watched Tía make tea for me and wished that I was back home and not here and it was grandmother not Tía making me tea, but it is as it is. That night I decided to huddle in the cook room and sleep there even when the stove fire died down, even as everyone ate supper and made marry, I laid my head on the wall and drifted to sleep.

A/N For those of you who aren't familiar with Tía, it is Spanish for 'aunt'. In places like were I live a Tía is a woman who takes care of kids and often has a large boarding house. She will let people spend the night at her house and often counsels anyone who seekers her out. She will help with homework, watch children and feed and shelter the less fortunate. She often is accepted as a part of every family and everyone, even the people who hate everyone, loves her. Most Tías that I meet are usually familiar with all religions and they treat each equally with no favoritism, even if you don't have a religion. Normally she has no children of her own or no family and is elderly. When the current Tía passes away she puts in her will who she has chosen to be the next Tía. And If you have any questions just ask.