AT THE AGE OF THREE, I was being molested and beaten by an uncle, and also at times by my mother, since she was an alcoholic. My mother did not live with my sister and [me] during the week. We had no idea where she lived or when she would come home. I lived with my grandmother, who closed her eyes to her son's and daughter's behavior. When my mother did come home on weekends, though, she would take my sister and me to Sunday School.
I love Sunday School and my teachers. I was happy there and loved seeing everyone. No one knew the secrets I held inside or the anger my sister held inside. All the teachers knew who I was, and at a very early age I had the job of putting the numbers up for the hymns we sang. I learned all of Mrs. Eddy's hymns by the age of five. I loved to sing, and we always had one of her hymns on Sunday to sing.
I AM NOT SURE HOW or when I met Mrs. C. She was not my Sunday School teacher, but she never missed winking at me when I came into Sunday School. That wink had such a twinkle in it that she was the first one I looked for. During the class session, I would look over to her and there it was, that twinkle in her eye.
