http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/movies/2015/08/brazilian_film_the_second_mother_reviewed.html

For two summers in the early ’90s, I lived in the beautiful, foliage-shaded house of a well-off Brazilian family in Rio de Janeiro, the family of my then-boyfriend. Along with his three younger brothers, he had been brought up in large part by a live-in nanny and housekeeper whom they called Teda—not her real name but an affectionate nickname that, if I remember right, my boyfriend had given her as a baby. I didn’t know much about Teda’s life outside her employers’ house, because she seldom mentioned it, but I know she had no children of her own. Still, she showed a mother’s willingness to haul out pictures of my beloved as a chubby, long-lashed baby and to enumerate his many merits before embarking on a list of my own.