Angol
My children always ask me what my life was like when I was a child. They seem to have the idea that I was born into a home filled with riches! I know that they are correct, however, I also realize that they are not expressing the term "filled with riches" the same way as I interpret it. It was this type of thinking that prompted my use of free time during retirement to write my autobiography. However, I ran into a stone wall at first, because I did not know where to start! There were no images that came into my mind at first; however, there were a lot of memories. Each memory seemed to prompt a place in my life, which included a particular environment. The sounds, the sights, the individuals all flooded into my mind. It was all prompted by the fact that as a family, we kept moving from place to place! In all those scenes, which took place in that little town, I was growing up, as well as the little town. Our family moved so many times that I will leave it up to the reader to keep count! My brain surprised me, as it seemed to have no difficulty dragging out even smells in some cases, whose odors still make me feel nauseous! Dialogue seemed to come to me in such a way that I felt as though I were an onlooker instead of a storyteller! Was all this real, or was it a storyteller's device? Was I perhaps dreaming? However, there was one constant in all the moving from place to place. There was one incessant that made the whole disorganized movement worthwhile: the presence of God! As I tried to relate my story, I found it just could not be amply told without mentioning God's presence. It brings to mind the song sung by Gladys Knight and the Pips. God is certainly "the best thing that ever happened to me!"
