I have been writing for a few years now, and some of my work I am immensely proud of, and some I am happy to never read again. This poem is definitely something I am proud of. I wanted to write something that answers the “How could a mother sell her child?” question, a poem that showed how choices are limited for some mothers, and how their love and longing to do the best thing for their child is just as strong as ours. I wrote it several years ago, but the message remains sadly unchanged.


I held you,
Your weight light on my hip
As I touched your button nose
With mine,
Peered deep into
Shining eyes,
Because you are my world.

We held hands
As we walked to the station.
And you skipped beside me
While my heart
Became still,
Because you were my world.

I sold you
To the man whose words
Promised me,
That you would be schooled
And be fed
And have chances in life,
Beyond my reach.
And I walked away,
With breaking heart
And one hundred pounds
And the prayer you would be safe.
Because you were my world.

Help to stop child trafficking. See for more details.


I continued to explore child-trafficking, and when I wrote my Clara novel, I sent her to India and set her amidst the women in the slums who have such limited choices. While I was writing the book, I visited India several times, meeting girls who had been sold, talking to mothers who had sold their own children, trying to understand how and why this happens. When I finally wrote the book, although the story is fiction (and I know no one as horrible as Clara!) every house in the slum that is described is a home I have been in, every situation is one that I heard about.

If you want to read a copy, I can send you one for £7.99. Or you can buy a KDP copy directly from Amazon.

Anne E. Thompson
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