When Mariatu Kamara was 12 years old, living in Sierra Leone, West Africa, she lived in a tiny village of 200 people.

She lived in the safety and kindly environment of a society that believed in the communal parenting of any child and the sanctity of respect. All the children worked on the land with their families, playing with each other in the quiet tropical evenings.

But one day, her world was blown apart by the civil war that gripped the country. Rebels came into her village. They slaughtered some of the people and they took her and her cousin to one side.

After some hours, they told her that they were going to cut off her hands. So, they turned her over to a group of boy soldiers, children themselves of only 10 or 11 years, who did, indeed, chop off her hands with a machete.

She passed out.

When Mariatu came to, she ran from the village, her arm stumps still bleeding, and ran into the jungle. And she ran. And ran. All the time she was running, she was thinking about survival; she was telling herself that she could live through this. She was praying for God to help her do just that.

"I didn't want to give up because you never know what is going to happen in the future," she told students at Orangeville District Secondary School Wednesday morning.

An unknown time later, she came to another village, without having any idea of where she was. A man, seeing her condition, offered to feed her a mango.

And she said: " No, I want to hold it myself." Even though her stumps were still bleeding, she wanted to feed herself the mango.

"That was the moment," she told the students, having come in response to an invitation to speak to them, "when I knew I was going to live."

She was taken to the hospital in Freetown. For the next three years, Mariatu lived in Freetown. Eventually, she was reunited with her family there.

She described those years to the students: "It was crazy - the streets were crazy. Some friends convinced me to join a group that did presentations about AIDS and HIV. I learned to dance. I learned how to forgive but not to forget. We showed the rebels that we were stronger than what had happened to us.

"It was fun - we were still alive - my family was there. I asked God to give me courage to live with hope for the future."

She grew serious with an oft-asked question: "How do I feel about my hands being cut off? Maybe God took my hands so that I can speak with my heart - as I'm doing now with you. I can speak on behalf of so many who cannot. I can tell the horror stories of what happened in Sierra Leone where half a million people were killed during the war." She admitted: "Sometimes, it's hard to just let go what happened."

However, she elaborated on that: "It's your own choice to forgive - it's something to help you move on - it's very difficult for some people."

In 2002, Mariatu was sponsored by a family here and came to Canada, with little or no idea of what Canada is; having come in August, she was not prepared for the winter. It came as quite a shock, from which she is still far from recovering. In the course of her talk, she mentioned the winter, a number of times, in tones of near disbelief.

Of her foster family, she said, "They took me into their family and made me their family. I have learned never to take people for granted."

Since coming to Canada, Mariatu has been going to school. At 16, she attended school for the first time. She progressed so quickly in her preliminary years that she went into high school, where she found her studies much more difficult. She gave sincere credit to her teachers, without whom, she was clear, she would not have done so well, would not have written her recent book and would not have been there at ODSS talking to the students.

She is currently at college, where she is studying social work, with the view of working to help abused women and children.

"That is what I'm thinking now," she commented, leaving the future open.

For Mariatu, education is the key to everything. She said to the students: "I challenge you not to take school for granted." Later she observed, "Canada has a healthy environment for making dreams come true. A truly successful person is one who has a well balanced education."

Although there is much that is good about Canada, Mariatu worries that respect is "no big deal" here. For her, respect is paramount. She pressed the point to the students: "Respect is not a big deal, especially over parents, but they are our heroes. We must respect them. It is important to respect our teachers who come every day to teach us. Would they work this hard if they didn't love us?"

She was almost out of time and there was still so much she wanted to tell them. So, she resorted to points: "It's important to have a goal in life and chase after it," she told them. "Guard your physical health. Don't try drugs. Everything you do to harm yourself lasts." She addressed the girls in the audience: "Don't experiment with bad relationships. You are smart. Girls are the smart ones. Don't rush to have babies. Be responsible for yourself."

She pointed out to all of them: "Life can never be better than here in Canada. But all over the world, people are dying of wars, lack of food and water. Wherever there is war, there are children and women suffering. Most governments are corrupt and are not working hard enough to solve the problems."

She finished by saying: "I want to believe that the words I have spoken will help us become better people - other people need your help to make this world a better place."

Through all her sad story and difficult times, she told them: "I smile like the rest of you; I laugh and I love to dance."

Unicef has appointed Mariatu Special Representative of children in war. In 2008, she returned briefly to Sierra Leone to see the work going one there to rescue injured and orphaned children. She has written, with a co-author, a book, The Bite of the Mango, and established a foundation for the orphanages in Sierra Leone, with a website www. mariatufoundation. com.

Rather wishfully, she remarked that she hoped to go back to her farm in Sierra Leone and be there again for a while, at least.

"But, for now, I am here. I am here in Canada. This is my home now."