Child in a Bottle

By MJ Sarge

MJ Sarge writes of her life growing up in an Irish family during the 50-60s, Her dad suffered from Post traumatic stress disorder from World War 2. The stress of the war memories lead him to drink to excess. This caused a fall out of hurts in her life and wounded her soul. Along with the souls of her other 9 brothers and sisters. We were all hurting from the trauma and abuse we each suffered as a result of the demon of alcoholism. Finding Jesus in a Life of the Spirit Seminar helped mj sarge forgive her father. She learned of Jesus" forgiveness and love. He healed my soul and gave me hope to go on living.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9781669821588

Book preview

The Beginning

All your children shall be taught by the Lord; great shall be the peace of your children. - Isaiah 54:13

I grew up in the beautiful state of Montana. Wide-open plains, mountains, plenty of wildlife, clean air and water. There were ten kids in my family. Dad managed to catch a southern girl, Marguerite, from Columbia, South Carolina. She was small and pretty. Not long after they were married, he put her on a train to Montana with a tiny baby, my eldest brother, Michael. It was just supposed to be a visit, but many years went by before she saw her beloved Columbia again.

Dad was in the army and served during World War II. He trained at Fort Jackson, South Carolina, as a medic and was then stationed overseas at the 131st Evacuation Hospital, seven miles from Mauthausen, Linz, Austria. By the end of the war, he achieved the rank of corporal. Mom lived with her in-laws for a while, Patrick and Bridget, before my parents could find their own place. My grandparents, Patrick and Bridget hailed from Ireland. Bridget was from Liscannor Bay, County Clare, about five to ten miles from the Cliffs of Moher. Pat was from Moyglass, County Tipperary. Grandpa Pat came to Great Falls, Montana in 1905 with a few Irish friends. They lived in a boarding house and worked in the old silver smelter down on river road by Giant Springs. Grandpa Pat saved enough money to bring back his sweetheart from Ireland. She never came, he would never say what happened. She had either married or wouldn’t come to this country. So, he returned to the East coast, and met Bridget Logan, my grandmother. Bridget came to America because of Uncle Austin Kirby. She was only 16 years of age. Uncle Austin paid for her boat passage to this country to work as a nanny for a premature baby. Grandpa paid off her boat passage to this country. Pat and Bridget were married in Tilton, New Hampshire. They took the train with Pat’s 2 sisters and their husbands, Catherine and Molly and came to Great Falls, Montana.

After the war, My Dad worked two jobs. His daytime job was at a liquor store, and at night, he worked at the local flour mill, sweeping floors all night long. Finally, tired and exhausted after years of working two jobs, he decided to find something else to support his growing family.

Dad studied real estate and insurance and received a license to sell both. When I was about six years old, Dad bought a small house. I remember that home well. There was a beautiful hedge of dark purple lilacs in the alleyway that I loved to pick and put in my hair. To this day, I still love the scent of lilacs because it reminds me of the good times. It was the 1950s. Dad was not home much, just the eight kids at this point, and we were all mostly happy. Grandma Sophie came up from Columbia and helped with the children. Sophie did not think my mom should handle that many children on her own. She felt needed and came whenever Dad sent her the train fare. Sophie always traveled by train. It was great fun to pick her up and deliver her to the train station in Great Falls amidst a lot of shouting and laughing. Grandma Sophie was truly loved by all. I remember sitting on the floor in her bedroom every night before we all went to bed listening to her read from a big, black Bible. Peace and contentment overcame me when I listened to her read the Bible, and I found it easier to sleep at night.

Childhood

For whoever finds me finds life and wins favor from the Lord. - Proverbs 8:35

We lived in a corner house and had other children to play with. Two, named Larry and Rully, lived across the street. Their mom, Ann, was a delightful woman. She lost one eye to cancer and wore a metal eye patch. Her kindness was a great virtue. Larry, the bully of the neighborhood, once shot a rubber arrow at me, which hit my eye, so from that day forward, I tried to stay away from him. I must have been about five or six at the time. That was not my only scrape with danger at that age. Mom later told me that another woman from the neighborhood, Daisy, pulled me out of the way of an oncoming car. Daisy was a sweet woman who used to bring copious batches of cookies and candies to our home every holiday, especially at Christmas time.

Charley and Daisy Conley were one of the few Black couples in Great Falls. Charley served as a lieutenant in the infantry in World War I. After the war, he worked on the railroad. He and Daisy owned a cabin on the Dearborn River, which our family eventually bought from them. Charlie favored my brother William and took him to the cabin a lot to fish. They became the best of friends. Our whole family would go to the cabin for the day, but there was not room for all of us to spend the night. William was blessed to receive this favor when he went fishing with Charlie. Every chance I could get, I ran over to Charley and Daisy’s home and baked with her. We would bake and talk until Mom found out I was gone and called me home. Charlie lived to be seventy-seven, and Daisy lived to be ninety-five.

Monkey Bars

Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you. Jesus said to him, Feed my sheep. - John 21:17

I have a vivid memory of playing outside on our swing set. My brother Sylvan was teasing me about hanging from the monkey bars. I was somewhat scared, but he promised to help me down. It did not happen because once I was up on the bars, a fire truck suddenly went by with its siren on. I was left screaming hanging upside down on the monkey bars, not knowing how to get down as I had let go with my hands and was dangling from my knees. I will never forget my brother Michael running out of the house when he heard me scream. Michael helped me down and comforted me as I continued to sob, his arms tight around me. Sylvan was nowhere to be found; he left me to chase the fire truck!

Another family by the last name of Harrigan lived a kitty corner from our house. I remember two girls, Linda and Terry, and a boy named Don. Terry used to babysit us. I really liked her because she was funny and laughed a lot. Her brother Don had bad eyesight. For a couple years, Don was held back in school due to his poor eyesight but was finally promoted into my grade at the St. Thomas Home, an orphanage and grade school, across the street from our home.

The Harrigans had a huge garden behind their house. I do not think they ever had a lawn back there. The front lawn had two big trees. When Mrs. Harrigan was baking, all of us neighborhood kids sat on her front porch with our mouths watering and tongues hanging out. Her best recipe was cinnamon rolls. One day I was able to bake cinnamon rolls with her. I rolled out the dough, shaped them into circles, and just watched them cook. All the neighbor kids were able to enjoy a hot delicious roll that I helped make.

My mom was a good cook too. She was busy with all of us kids, so our food often came out of boxes or freezer packages. Mom taught me to read the directions on the box or package, and that became our meal. Nothing too fancy was ever served at our home, and we never had much luck growing a garden. I asked Mom one day why we did not have a garden. She said Dad had to sell Grandma Bridget’s Garden veggies to the local grocery store when he was a kid, so he did not want to see a vegetable garden ever again. Dad worked at a small grocery store and in turn handed his paycheck over to Bridget to help with family expenses. The memory of his childhood must not have been a good one; therefore, instead of a vegetable garden, we had lots of pretty flowers and roses. Daddy especially liked roses.

Dad did not have much growing up, no bed—not even a bedroom. Grandpa Pat worked at the Anaconda mines in Great Falls. I