My first true friend - a short story by Maria-Elena.

I was brought up in a family with old fashion convictions, one of those convictions was that girls be virgins when they marry. We had no guidance with regards to sex, we only knew sex was a taboo. My parents did overprotect us about the real world. But then, in 1973-75 so much happened to us in that short time that we had to grow up quickly and our poor parents were also overwhelmed with that pace of life, they didn't know how to handle us growing up so fast. Besides, in those days we didn't have the access to information as we have it now to guide new parents.

When we lived in Buenos Aires as refugees, we met boys of all ages. This was something unfamiliar for us as we never had daily contact with the opposite sex, I'm afraid our naivety got the best out of us sisters.

My middle sister was 15 and I was 17 then. We met boys, went out and had fun. We had no idea what looking after ourselves meant, if you get my meaning. Boys being boys had other intentions, we were just happy kissing our boyfriends but we weren't aware what the effect kissing them would be.

My sister was the first one to fall from grace , then I followed. When our late mother found out about our predicament, let me tell you her reaction wasn't one of “let's talk about it”. I'm not blaming or judging her for reacting the way she did; however, my sister and I felt lonely and disgraced, and had nowhere to turn to during these difficult times. One thing I was sure of, I was going to keep my baby. The baby’s father wanted to marry me straight away, however I wasn't sure whether I wanted to. I only knew life with my parents, above all I was an immature teenager not knowing what to expect from life.

As my bump started to show, mum looked happy and made sure I had my basic needs. Before my baby daughter was born my parents and younger sibling went to Belgium to make their life there, my middle sister had flown to Canada with her husband and I was left behind in Argentina with my husband. Mum once again, was heartbroken and felt helpless as she didn't know what was going to become of us.

The only way to communicate those days was by way of letters, which would have taken more than a week to reach its destination. Telephones and telegrams were a luxury for us but my husband made an effort to send the news to my parents when my daughter was born.

The experience of giving birth was traumatic. I was kept in a big room with at least 20 other women that were also in labour, each bed was divided by screens. There was no privacy, I was terrified, my husband wasn't allowed in and the nurses lacked empathy.

After a long and painful birth, my beautiful baby daughter was born. My companion and true friend, who has been with me through many obstacles on this journey called LIFE.