Dear Mrs. Clinton,
Forty-one percent of the adults in the United States of America consume alcoholic beverages on a daily basis, qualifying them as alcoholics. I am an alcoholic. This malady has taken over my life, causing nefarious thoughts to my mind. On your topic of "It takes a village to raise a child," I advocate this statement to be true.
My daughter, Sophia, puts on her amicable face each morning as I stumble around the kitchen, with a beer can in my right hand and a bottle of Vodka in my left hand. My ineffectual life style has taught my daughter the wrong lessons in life, yet hope seems to live around the corner. My neighbor, Gloria Barb, knows the situation in our home. My daughter's attitude causes a fuss in the morning as she is frightened to leave her hung-over mother alone, but settles as Gloria Barb, in her astute ways, pulls her away with a sweet treat or a day outing. Thanks to Gloria Barb, I know my daughter has an ideal role model in her life.
Another member in our town, Sam, the vexatious butcher, knowing all the inside secrets of the town, saw Sophia and I as we walked into the store for the first time two weeks ago. He scrutinized my blood shot eyes, yellow teeth, and frizzy hair and then saw sweet Sophia. He knew this girl needed more help than others in the town. He offered to pick up Sophia each day from elementary school and allowing her a study space in the store. I accepted immediately, thinking of the free time for drinking instead of watching over her studies. Through all this, there was never an ounce of guilt in my body. Sophia arrived home on the first night with Sam around 7 pm, with a grin across her face. I smiled due to the twelve shots of Irish whiskey I had taken before her arrival. Sophia talked about the meat flipping that Sam does for his customers and his Bernese mountain dog, Ruby, that licks your face from left to right. Seeing my daughter with such delight cause me to do something most never people do. On one September evening, I called the police, reporting myself.
Sophia was taken into childcare, but within an hour, Gloria Barb and Sam were there to take her home. My community was there to support my daughter when I wasn't. Today, I am in rehab with sixteen other women and Sophia is in the loving arms of the village. Sam and Gloria Barb are her legal guardians, which I am grateful. It does take a village to raise a child, not just a mother.

Sincerely,
Helena