Page 31 - Daphne Hart - 89 and Feeling Fine

This is what I believe happened—just an assumption.
My mother had a son when she was younger, who was

taken from her to live with his father. So, Mom and my

stepfather lived together, and they had twins—a boy and
a girl. But the girl died. Whatever the reason was, my

mother left and went to Kingston, and somehow ended
up with me. And because I was a girl, my father

probably didn’t want me. The men of those days did not
want girls. She, unfortunately, fell into hard times, so

she came back to the man she had left in the country—

my stepfather—with me in tow.

My mom was always going to see a doctor somewhere

because she always had stomach pains. But they never
did say what was wrong. I didn’t think they knew. No

one knew the word cancer at that time.

Even at that young age, I loved to tell stories. I would
make them up and repeat them to my pretend friends.

I always loved Bible stories. My mother would read
them to me, and then I would put them in my own

words.

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