This is a rough beginning of my book: Finding Me
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Spirituality is always a personal belief system with each individual. This book is about how I found mine.
In 1955, I was adopted soon after I was born. The family I was adopted into were Catholic. They already had a son who was about four. But the mother had a hard time bringing a baby to term. She had have four or five miscarriages before her son was born.
So here they were at the age of 45 adopting a child to add to their family. The family was a good family. A wholesome 1950s family with all the typical picnics and parties and good times.
My father was an Irish Catholic. He was very social and could make everyone feel good around him. He owned a business, a concrete plant, making parking blocks, junction blocks, burial vaults, among other things. His workers adored him. One even named his first born son after him.
He was a compassionate, caring man. When a person needed a second chance, he would give it to them. I remember a man who needed a chance to prove himself and stay off alcohol. Dad gave him a chance and put him to work at the plant.
The man wanted to show his gratitude. He had great skills as a woodworker. So he bulilt me I was about 7 at the time. He built me a darling wooden cabinet with a hutch to put my toy pots and pans and dishes in. He put real formica on the top and the top had a decorative routered fencing. It was about 4 feet tall and extremely sturdy. It lasted a long time. Long enough for me to hand it down to my daughter.
My mom had a large family and every Christmas the house was filled with family partying. We\'d make homemade cookies, some real exotic ones. My dad loved having people around and could make them laugh. He had that Irish sense of humor that never faded.
Mom loved doing up the house and entertaining. At the age of 6 I was enrolled in Sacred Heart Catholic elementary school. We had to wear green plaid uniforms. Most of the grades were taught by nuns.
I remember that I was fond of my first grade teacher who was a nun. ILearning in her class was a lot of fun. I remember that when we were learning addition, I jumped ahead and figured out subtraction. I was pretty proud of myself.
Sacred Heart school was integrated with Sacred Heart church. So all the saints holidays had processions and such. I thought they were fun. It was like acting. But I never fell for the solemness that they required. I just enjoyed the flashy colors and songs.
Even at a young age I had a hard time believing what the Catholic church taught. Maybe it was because I lost part of my hearing at a young age and missed a lot in conversation and sermons. But then, I never felt I was losing anything when there was bible discussions or catechism.
My mom would often have the priest over for dinner. He was a very kind, gentle man. And I liked him too. But he was just a man and a friend of the family. I never felt intimidated by people who had \"titles.\" They were just another name.
People seemed surprised when I no qualms about having a conversation with so called \"notables.\" All people are the same to me. They are just people. I was asked a question and what I would rather and one of the answers was meet some famous person face to face. That was the one I picked. My answer surprised everyone in my group.
When I was in second grade, my teacher was a sweet little nun named Sister Anne. She told my mom that I should be kept away from another girl (who also happened to be my next door neighbor) because I was so innocent and the other girl would be bad influence. Sister Anne had no idea that I was my own person even at that age.
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This is a rough beginning of my book: Finding Me
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Spirituality is always a personal belief system with each individual. This book is about how I found mine.
In 1955, I was adopted soon after I was born. The family I was adopted into were Catholic. They already had a son who was about four. But the mother had a hard time bringing a baby to term. She had have four or five miscarriages before her son was born.
So here they were at the age of 45 adopting a child to add to their family. The family was a good family. A wholesome 1950s family with all the typical picnics and parties and good times.
My father was an Irish Catholic. He was very social and could make everyone feel good around him. He owned a business, a concrete plant, making parking blocks, junction blocks, burial vaults, among other things. His workers adored him. One even named his first born son after him.
He was a compassionate, caring man. When a person needed a second chance, he would give it to them. I remember a man who needed a chance to prove himself and stay off alcohol. Dad gave him a chance and put him to work at the plant.
The man wanted to show his gratitude. He had great skills as a woodworker. So he bulilt me I was about 7 at the time. He built me a darling wooden cabinet with a hutch to put my toy pots and pans and dishes in. He put real formica on the top and the top had a decorative routered fencing. It was about 4 feet tall and extremely sturdy. It lasted a long time. Long enough for me to hand it down to my daughter.
My mom had a large family and every Christmas the house was filled with family partying. We\'d make homemade cookies, some real exotic ones. My dad loved having people around and could make them laugh. He had that Irish sense of humor that never faded.
Mom loved doing up the house and entertaining. At the age of 6 I was enrolled in Sacred Heart Catholic elementary school. We had to wear green plaid uniforms. Most of the grades were taught by nuns.
I remember that I was fond of my first grade teacher who was a nun. ILearning in her class was a lot of fun. I remember that when we were learning addition, I jumped ahead and figured out subtraction. I was pretty proud of myself.
Sacred Heart school was integrated with Sacred Heart church. So all the saints holidays had processions and such. I thought they were fun. It was like acting. But I never fell for the solemness that they required. I just enjoyed the flashy colors and songs.
Even at a young age I had a hard time believing what the Catholic church taught. Maybe it was because I lost part of my hearing at a young age and missed a lot in conversation and sermons. But then, I never felt I was losing anything when there was bible discussions or catechism.
My mom would often have the priest over for dinner. He was a very kind, gentle man. And I liked him too. But he was just a man and a friend of the family. I never felt intimidated by people who had \"titles.\" They were just another name.
People seemed surprised when I no qualms about having a conversation with so called \"notables.\" All people are the same to me. They are just people. I was asked a question and what I would rather and one of the answers was meet some famous person face to face. That was the one I picked. My answer surprised everyone in my group.
When I was in second grade, my teacher was a sweet little nun named Sister Anne. She told my mom that I should be kept away from another girl (who also happened to be my next door neighbor) because I was so innocent and the other girl would be bad influence. Sister Anne had no idea that I was my own person even at that age.
Good start. Sounds like you had a good childhood...at least to this point.