The first time I “met” Danielle Legros Georges was over email. I had tentatively submitted a short story to Small Axe / sx salon, unsure of how it would be received. Her response was simple yet profoundly affirming: “Thank you for sending us your work. I enjoyed reading your short story, and would like to consider it for publication . . . ”
Danielle couldn’t have known how deeply those words would impact me. Hovering between self-doubt and self-declaration, questioning if I was truly an author or merely pretending to be one, waiting for external validation from a “real” literary platform. This acceptance—my first from an established and respected publication—gave me something I hadn’t realized I needed: a sense of belonging.
We scheduled a virtual call for 22 December 2023 to discuss edits, and that meeting stays with me to this day. Danielle was warm, open, and genuinely enthusiastic about the story. She treated my work with care and offered suggestions that were thoughtful, respectful, and encouraging. Her positive and uplifting words gave me what I needed to revisit my work with fresh eyes and revise it with purpose and pride. Her suggestions for improvement were always presented in a helpful manner, and I came to appreciate her constructive and kind approach. Over the following months, our correspondence remained just as kind and constructive, and I came to deeply appreciate the generosity of her time and insight.
As a fellow Caribbean-born woman who is striving to bring her own stories to the world, I thank you, Danielle, for your time, your expertise, your warmth, wisdom, and positivity. Thank you for your unwavering commitment in the promotion of Caribbean stories and literature. Your light touched me more than you may have realized. May your spirit live on through every story you helped bring into the world.
In your honor, I offer the following poem in gratitude.
With Keen Eyes
You saw me.
With keen eyes, you saw me.
You read the heart of my work and saw me.
The depth of my passion did not escape you.
You saw my Caribbean-ness, held my hands and walked me toward greatness.
You saw my story, you saw me.
You opened the door that led me closer to who I am meant to be.
Your message found me at a time when I felt hopeless.
You saw me between the lines, between the words on the page.
You saw my story, you saw me.
You caressed my words and kneaded them into something that fed my soul.
With keen eyes, you saw me.
You read the heart of my work and saw me.
You saw me.
Now you have left this place, this space,
Never to interrogate the thoughts of those still adrift.
Beyond the horizon, you take your first steps
Into the realm of peace and tranquility.
You have walked on ahead of us, with your golden quill,
Reminding us of the importance of getting to the heart of who we are.
To question always,
To never settle for less than greatness.
You saw the heart of us, you saw our stories.
May we be so honored to meet you again, in that place where stories rest.
May you once again see us, with keen eyes,
Between the lines, between the words.
Omega Francis is a writer and editor from the twin-island Republic of Trinidad and Tobago. With a deep passion for literature and creative expression, she holds a BA in communication studies with a minor in psychology, as well as an MFA in creative writing from the University of the West Indies, St. Augustine. Her work spans both fiction and nonfiction, where she continues to explore the depths of language, emotion, and identity through her craft.