Cries from the Storm

Chapter 1 - My Beginning

I was born as the eleventh child to a thirty-seven year old mother mId a forty-two year old father. To my understanding, I was a pleasant surprise to this homemaker and lumberjack. Being born and raised in one of the most rural towns in Louisiana, I knew there was more to life than feeding chickens, milking cows, and slaughtering pigs. I would often dream far past the farm as I grew up by changing every farm chore into a game. For instance, when we went fishing, I'd pretend that the lake was an ocean and we were shipwrecked. My brother and sisters would be willing participants as we explored the quiet woods for lost treasures.

I quite remember vividly, Mama sitting on an empty-upside down chitterling bucket with a tattered straw hat to protect her from the sun. She would swat mosquitoes while she sat on the bank gazing over the sparkling water. She would have us reach in the bait-can to pullout earthworms to put on the hooks.