Rose Marie Abrams
 

From the day she was born, Rose Marie Abrams was nothing more than a pawn in a sick chess game in which there would be no winner.

The players were none other than Rose Marie’s biological mother, a single parent who had been raised in the foster care system during the 1940s and 50s, and her foster mother, who took in children not to nurture them, but to torture them and turn them into slaves. To one mother, Rose Marie was merely a doll, the first thing ever owned. To the other mother, she was a captive, a scapegoat, the victim of insatiable sadism. No one wanted her for who she was, for who every child is: a gift from the Divine.

Despite the unceasing horrors Rose Marie Abrams suffered at the hands of those meant to care for her, her light could not be extinguished. In Pieces of Me, she speaks the unspeakable and reveals the hope, tenacity, and life-giving defiance that brought her dreams of freedom to life—and let her long-suppressed inner child out to play.

 
Is there any purpose to all that I experienced, or was it all without rhyme or reason?
Pieces of Me, Rose Marie Abrams
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