The Birth Of A Spirit

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It probably now seems like well over hundreds of years ago to my mother but as it is, it has only been a little over seventy. It started out as a windy, dusty day with the sun covered by a layer of dirt and grit as folks attempted in vain to keep the hats on their heads and some kind of warmth in their bones, as the cold prairie wind cut like a knife through the coats and jackets guarding them from the elements of the Texas Panhandle weather. The scene is set in the little town of Mclean, east of Amarillo, Texas on Route 66, a dingy Wednesday on February 20,1935. Clara Machen, twenty five years old, heavy with child sat uncomfortably in the living room of the small, dimly lit house on a slight hill overlooking the highway, US-66, toward Oklahoma City. The day seemed forever as sharp pains came and went inside this beautiful woman's womb as the child she was carrying was demanding his first breath of air from the outside world. Not knowing, not caring of the future but wanting to escape the prison it had been confined to since it, as an egg was conceived by the woman's husband, Roy. A young girl, Patricia, was home from school as the need was greater that she be with her mother than in the classroom. She was there wondering why her mother had to endure so much pain and not really knowing fully about babies and childbirth was concerned. She knew she was to have a little brother or sister soon, as she had been told of the forthcoming birth almost immediately upon the finding of her mother being pregnant. This was truly to be a day to remember for the rest of her life, as things would never be the same,as she had grown to know with just her mommy, daddy and her black cat she loved and spent much time with. In all her seven years she had never known a time like this nor a day like this would reveal to be. The husband Roy, was at work and was due home a short while after five p.m. As the details are somewhat hazy in my mind as I was the one inside wanting out, I will proceed from the details to the more important data. At approximately 5:25 p.m. in the flurry of a violent dust storm and the silt filtering into the house from every crack in the structure, a young boy child came forth into this world, to in turn conceive three sons himself as his life progressed. These sons would be of different mothers. One would never be known by the other two and it would be almost twenty three years before they would meet and become friends and true brothers. This my sons, is the story of my life as close as this weary and confused mind can remember. Please bear with me as I attempt into a venture I know nothing about,

"Writing"