And I Flew

By Ellen Patricia

This book which I am introducing to you, is the mirror on the early life of the author, and chronicles the path that was taken by one sister who is the product of a Diaspora.
Ellen Patricia her early beginnings started in a number of local schools. Her life skills were honed both in and out of the classroom. This enabled her to have great strength, determination, and courage to be victorious in the many trials she has encountered.
As a child, she experience a very austere lifestyle, and as such, she lacked many social amenities.
She was exposed to abject poverty, and was given laborious chores which should have been done by those many years her senior
Her parents would often dispense punitive control as a way of maintaining discipline. And as such, Ellen Patricia came to accept the abuse overtime as a integral part of her childhood and adolescent life.
She was also the product of the most terrible molestation, and abused, which was perpetrated by a family member and friends.
This reinforce in her childlike mind at the time, just like her unkempt appearance, she was less than acceptable even in her own social circle.
From a very early age she has been involved in different aspects of church life. This has culminated in her displaying a very strong spiritual pose today.
Because of her great love and trust in God, she has grown to become a spiritual warrior, which places her on a high dimensional level, with the ability to reach down to help others with love and compassion. Her dynamic experiences have shone light into many dark corners and has steered her life along the path, which mark the beginning of her discovery, and today it has culminated in the book, AND I FLEW.


Vincent.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781546215066

Ellen Patricia

Ellen Patricia had her early beginnings in the Parish of St. Thomas, and was educated in a number of local schools. Her life skills were honed both in and out of the classroom. This enabled her to have great strength, determination, and courage to be victorious in the many trials she has encountered. As a child, she experience a very austere lifestyle, and as such, she lacked many social amenities. She was exposed to abject poverty, and was given laborious chores which should have been done by those many years her senior Her parents would often dispense punitive control as a way of maintaining discipline. And as such, Ellen Patricia came to accept the abuse overtime as a integral part of her childhood and adolescent life. She was also the product of incest and other sexual abuse, perpetrated by a family member and friends. This reinforce in her childlike mind at the time, just like her unkempt appearance, she was less than acceptable even in her own social circle. From a very early age she has been involved in different aspects of church life. This has culminated in her displaying a very strong spiritual pose today. Because of her great love and trust in God, she has grown to become a spiritual warrior, which places her on a high dimensional level, with the ability to reach down to help others with love and compassion. Her dynamic experiences have shone light into many dark corners and has steered her life along the path, which mark the beginning of her discovery, and today it has culminated in the book, ‘AND I FLEW.’

Book preview

Introduction

Ellen Patricia’s purpose in this book is to primarily address her families and friends from a position that she had not the opportunity to do before.

The author of this book is not seeking to direct any animosity towards anyone for past unpleasant events. Instead by her unabashed reporting of her earlier life, she is hoping to open a window to those who have a need to know her better.

The traumas which she experience were the reason for the pain and unhappiness which have plagued her all these many years. Traumas brought about in her early years as a result of her inability to gain acceptance from her parents and siblings.

This testimony of her life’s experience should be a treasure trove for her family; it will also be therapeutic for the author, because of the rejection, and to heal many emotional wounds which have marred her life for many years,

The author found it difficult to communicate with her mother.

Even to report incident of child molestation was difficult for Ellen Patricia to do; as her mother rarely listen to her words over that of her perpetrators. Even when her vigilance would have protected Ellen Patricia’s chastity, she chooses to remain silent, so as not to offend her daughter’s molester.

Her mother primarily goal was to protect her social position in the community.

The author’s maternal influence was such that the memories often left her recoiling at the thought of her mother’s austere attitude.

Her early years formed the template on which the course of her later life would be built.

Ellen Patricia became an early recipient of the most insidious forms of child abuse. This abuse was perpetrated by none other than the individuals who should have offered guidance and protection, but instead only caused her pain.

So much so, that at the tender age of four, child molestation seemed normal to her.

During her youthful years she did not experience any love at home from her mother and father.

At the behest of her mother, Ellen Patricia was sent to various foster homes where she often was made to work incessantly. This continued up to her adolescence years.

Because they lived in a rural setting, chores were always plentiful at home.

Her parent’s cavalier attitude about the importance of her attending school caused her attendance to be anything but regular. They placed more importance on her domestic chores than her academic pursuits. The net result was that she was deprived of needed schooling in her formative years. As a result of her experience she is now equipped with wisdom to impart to parents and kids alike about the importance of a good education.

I found it was a surprise to some of Ellen Patricia family members to learn that for most part of her life she was regarded as the ‘black sheep’ of the family.

The lack of normal amenities was always the hallmark of her life, but the author’s adolescence years saw her life beset with ‘abject poverty.’ Her indigent state was compounded by the fact that she was supporting a growing family as a single mother.

It would appear that her fortune was not to be gleaned from the association with the opposite sex.

Broken promises and unfulfilled expectation were the markers that appeared time and time again so she became knowledgeable and mindful in the dispensing of her emotions.

As a close friend of Ellen Patricia I can attest to the fact that her children had been her primary focus over these many years, as many of her life changing decisions were made with them in mind.

She reported to me that her life at Hill Castle, Pine Castle and many other places brought back very few memories of happiness.

As she was never a gregarious person by nature, her solitaire lifestyle usually brought out an insensitive attitude towards her from the members of the community.

And from time to time and stemming from very trivial circumstances she often became an object of ridicule.

Through all her trials the safe harbor that she had was her grandparents. They became the ‘safety net’ which kept her going in moments of despair. Her encounter with love of a family came by way of her grandparents. Their guidance and affection should stand as a testimony to the importance of grandparents in many families. I have no hesitation in stating that Ellen Patricia’s Grandma and Grandpa will be placed on a pedestal in her heart, a position which they so richly deserve. Had it not been for both of her grandparents in many instances she would not be able to fend off many of the storms life sent her way.

Their encouraging words and loving smiles will always remain with her.

As Christians and God-fearing people, they, by their simple way of life ushered her into a life of religious observance.

Ellen Patricia’s faith in God was her main support in dealing with the many vicissitudes of her life. Just like an ‘ugly duckling,’ through her belief in the saving power of ‘Jesus Christ’ she will be transformed in a’ beautiful swan’.

In some ways I compare the parallel of the author’s life to that of Joseph who was despised and rejected by his brothers. Nevertheless, Divine intervention will make the stone that the builders refused become the chief building block.

God has placed His anointing on her life through his son Jesus Christ, and she is a living manifestation of that anointing today.

It is my hope that all who read this manuscript will come to the realization that despite their many trials, God has brought us back to Him through Christ’s death and resurrection. It is with great hope that many will discover the path to redemption, especially the young when it is advantageous at this time in their life to accept Jesus Christ.

It is only by an unreserved acceptance of His Divine invitation that we will access God’s promises and be a light to all men so that we can be truly conquerors and manifest the Divine victory.

This book has been written with love by Ellen Patricia.

Negative experience made known, sometime, becomes the gateway to healing.

So by way of this book the author exposes her life to the light, but primarily to her children.

Her aim is to set the wheels of love in motion between herself and her family.

The author has communicated to me that she was divinely inspired to write this book; and it is by obeying God’s command that he will give her release from the bondage of her psychological traumas. By ‘Divine Providence,’ her greatest desire, for the first time, is to be able to refer to herself and her siblings as ‘a family.’

Vincent.

Chapter One

Early Childhood

Pine Castle is a small town close to Wildwood.

One of my earliest memories was of my grandmother telling me that as a baby I came from Locket to Pine Castle, on the mail bus which was the public transportation at that time.

I remember one night as a little girl we were experiencing what my grandmother called ‘bad weather.’ There were heavy rains and unusually strong winds, and I recalled everybody saying that a hurricane was ‘coming.’ I later learned it was an infamous hurricane. At that time I was almost four years old. My family at that time consisted of my mother and father, my grandparents, my brother George and myself.

That night everyone seemed to be a state of panic. Even the neighbors sounded very excited, and people were running to and fro. The church was located close to our house, so my grandmother took me and my brother across the fence to seek refuge there. She then put my brother George to lie on a bench, but I, being a little scared, and ‘hid’ under a table she had brought from our house. The church was now a designated storm shelter, so many people from the community came there through the night.

I fell asleep early that night, sleeping through the worst of the storm, so I was not privy to the natural devastation which ensued throughout the night.

I was awakened in the morning by the noises of the people in the church and the community. Everyone seemed to be expressing their shock at the extent of damages that was done by the hurricane.

Looking from the church across to our house brought to me a very stark reality.

Our house was leaning precariously to one side. There were fruits, broken tree branches, and zinc sheets that were scattered all over the entire yard. Outside looked literally ‘torn up.’ I had never seen anything like that before. Even the pig pen had blown away and my grandfather had to go in search for the pigs.

The flora of the area was in a mangled state, and the entire area was also in a state of desolation.

My father, who was a carpenter, assisted my grandfather in repairing the house, including some of the other houses in the community.

The house we lived in; belonged to my grandmother. She told me that it was built originally in Hill Castle but on the insistence of my grandfather she sold her land there and physically moved the house to Pine Castle where it was reassembled. This then resulted in the migration of her entire family. My relationship with my grandmother was an endearing one as long as I could remember. She reminded me that at three years old I was eating a star apple and told her that I would like to plant the seed. She told me that it would be a good idea, and helped me to do so. Years later I had the pleasure of eating many succulent fruits from the first tree I had planted

As time passed, and I got older my mother and father moved away, and rented a house on a hill nearby to where my grandparents lived from a lady named Miss Hula. This house was occupied by my parent’s, my brother George, and myself. My grandparents were now living on their own

Unfortunately, as I can remember, I was about four years of age when I was I was being molested; which continued as I got older.

My father was employed as a headman of Agriculture, at the district of Fountain in Wildwood. His means of transportation to work was to ride on his bicycle each day which was a long way from home. My parents would have regular arguments; particularly about my father alleged ‘womanizing.’ One day in plain view, I remember seeing my mother confront another lady, questioning her loudly about her ‘relationship’ with my father. My mother started beating the woman severely, and pushing her repeatedly on a nearby barbed wire fence leaving her with her clothes torn and bloody from the cuts she had received. I don’t recall ever seeing that woman again. After a while when I was approximately five years old my parents move from Pine Castle to live at Fountain.

Chapter Two

Early Traumas

My earliest memories of Fountain were of my family living at Fountain in a house they rented from the Martin’s. Fountain is historically known for the famous mineral spring which is located there. This spring is said to have been discovered by a slave who used its water to heal his wound. This legend made the area very popular and a large park, and garden was established there.

Fountain was the centre of much of the activity filtering in from adjoining cities. As a result, it assumed the position of one the social center. In the 1950’s, I remember as a child, most of the bigger grocery stores were owned and operated by people of different races.

While living at the Martin’s, my cousin Joe came from down the country to live with us. Unfortunately the molestation continued almost to my teenage years.

My molester soon took a dislike for Joe. My molester responded to this situation by meeting out severe corporal punishment on Joe for the slightest infraction by tying him by his two hands and feet to a breadfruit tree. Joe would always sit and cry daily, and was afraid to enter the house. His sleeping quarters soon became under the cellar of the house.

After some time the situation became unbearable for Joe. He made his escape during the tirade and was never seen at the house again.

This took place in year which my mother gave birth to my brother Roy.

My father was a handsome man of Indian descent. I loved him very much and always wanted to go everywhere with him. As time passed he purchased land, not far from the Martin’s house. He subsequently built a wooden house on that land which was some distance from the road, in a valley, and in close proximity to a river. We were also fortunate to have a spring which cascaded from the hills behind and above our house that flowed into the river not far from our house. The only stove we had at the time was a coal stove which my mother used on Sundays or whenever it rained. Normally we used wood for fuel. The wood fireplace was consisted of five stones on which were laid old machetes to support the pots. The toilet was a pit toilet. It was constructed from bamboo, board, and zinc, which was located behind the house, and close to the river. On a regular basis, my mother would put Jeyes and ashes into the toilet to disinfect it. This was done to suppress the obnoxious odors which came from it. On Saturdays, one of my chores was to put dye on the toilet floor, polish and shine on my knees using a coconut brush with burn coconut, or candle wax. The finished job was such that the brilliance of the toilet flooring could be compared to that of the house.

I attended an infant centre at the corner of Fountain cross road at the garden park. The school was located beside a church which had a large bell house beside it. After school was dismissed in the afternoons, I would sit inside the ‘bell house’ accompanied with other children and wait for my father to pick me up on his way from his job. The journey in the morning was much easier as my father rode his bicycle downhill. Returning home, we had to dismount from the bicycle and walk most of the way. This made the journey seem so much longer.

Somehow, I enjoyed being with my father.

My parents would frequently quarrel and fight. This went on for many years. As a child, I had no idea what the problem was. They would regularly shout at each other, always using profane languages. During those times my father would chase me from the house, sometimes accompanied by a swift kick. I had to seek shelter in the cellar under the house where I would sometimes have to lay all night in the dirt like an animal with neither nothing to lay on or cover.

My grandmother at the time was living with us. The problem did not get any better; but worsened. My father showed no respect for her. Her efforts to calm his tantrums were always unsuccessful.

On one occasion, during a brawling altercation, my grandmother took my brothers and me to shelter in the cellar under the house. While there we felt a copious dousing of water. We realized it was my father when he shouted, Wet them up, wet them up.

My grandmother immediately took us from the cellar, hid us beside the banana trees and ran quickly into the house to get dry clothes for us. When we got dressed she said that she was going to take us away from this unpleasant situation. As we were going through the gate, I heard my father voice, as he came out shouting profanity and running towards us, obviously in disapproval of our grandmother taking us away. He and my grandmother had a physical tussle, and then my father slipped and fell down an escarpment, giving us the opportunity to escape.

It was very late that night, and there was no one around.

My grandmother wrapped our clothes in a bundle, held our hands. She told us that we have to run very fast because she was taking us to Pine Castle to escape from my father.

The road was dark and lonely and the journey was very long, but my grandmother did not care about that, she kept dragging us three children along with her, because it was like we were running to save our lives.

It was late that night when we arrived at Pine Castle. We all stayed there for quite a while.

As time pass; One day my grandmother told us that she have gotten words from my mother that the situation had changed between she and my father so she would be taking us back. My grandfather was very displeased about us going back to the same problems.

On returning home, things had ‘cooled off’ for some time. After a few weeks went by the problem started again, this time, it only got worse. My molester would wrestle with me, and dragged me through the coffee walk and down to the river bank, when I tried to resist him he fought hard, and molested me, and then I was being bludgeoned by him. I told my mother about it. She accosted him about the incident but a fight ensued. My mother tried to escape but was unsuccessful, as my molester caught up with her running some distant from the house down the road where she ended being bludgeoned. She had to run quickly with me to the neighbor’s house for safety. After staying there for a number days, I returned home. One day she told me to pack my clothes as she was taking me away. I had no idea where my mother was taking me, and I knew there was no point asking.

She took me down the street where we lived to her friend, Miss Day. When we reached to Miss Day’s house she told me to wait outside while she went in to talk to her. I tried to hear what they were saying but they spoke so softly. Not long after my mother came outside and told me that Miss Day would be taking me somewhere and that I should behave myself. My mother then left and return home. I became very frightened.

As memory serves me, I was about six years old then.

After waiting a long time, I saw Miss Day came out from her house, well dressed and told me to take my grip case and come with her, because we were going to catch the bus. I asked her where she was taking me, and she said that we were already late but, would tell me when we got on the bus. We had to run most of the way and luckily we made it just in time to catch the bus.

Before I got on the bus, I noticed the sign on the bus that said, ‘TO ROSEHILL.’ We boarded the bus and sat together. I her asked if we were going to Rosehill and she said yes. I asked her why I was going there with her, and to whom I was going. She said to me that my parents were not getting along well at home so she was taking me to stay with one of my mother’s friends.

It was late that night when we arrived at Rosehill, and as a result I was unable to observe very much. Miss Day told me that she was going to stop at her house first before going to my mother’s friend. When we arrived at the lady’s house, she had already retired for the night. Miss Day knocked on the door and a lady voice answered asking, Who is it. Miss Day replied, I bring the little girl from Miss Polly. She told Miss Day to give her a chance to put some clothes on. When she opened the door, she had a kerosene lamp in her hand which shone brightly so that it lit up the area outside. She invited us in., but on seeing the lady, I took a sudden dislike to her. She was dark skinned, with a very unpleasant countenance. Notwithstanding, I felt no attraction towards her. Anyway, I went inside her house. Miss Day did not come into the house, but told the lady she wanted to speak to her in private. They stayed outside and talked quietly for a while. I could not hear what they were saying but I overheard Miss Day telling the lady that she had to leave but had money to give her which came from my mother. Miss Day then came to the doorway and told me she was leaving and I should behave myself.

After Miss Day leave, the lady asked me if I was hungry. I was, and told her, Yes.

She took a plate from under her bed and handed it to me. The plate had food on it, but I could not tell what kind of food it was. I took the plate from her and told her Thanks. But before I started eating, I looked at the plate, it was so black, and the food was just as black as the plate. I was afraid to eat it, but the lady kept watching me. I tried tasting the food but it did not taste good, so I gave the plate back to her. Just looking at the plate and the color of the food made me felt bad in my stomach. I had noticed when she took the plate from under the bed and gave it to me a cat ran from under the bed, but I did not think anything about it, until after I gave the plate back to her. When I gave the plate back to her, she appeared disgruntled, and told me to put my night clothes on and go and lie in the corner of the bed facing the wall.

My mother and grandmother had always taught me to say my prayers before going to sleep, so I knelt beside the bed and said my prayers. When I told her good-night she did not respond to me in a pleasant way, her voice was almost an inaudible grumble.

The following morning, I watched her take