Learn of Me and Pray

By Deborah Newton

Living a lie every day and showing the world a different child, teen, woman than the one who lived in Grandfather's huge house. Not knowing what the next day would bring and knowing that evil was indeed real. Who would love me and whom could I trust. Mommy, the cat is scratching my hand. To face life not knowing what TRUTH was and to know that the access was free without knowing is a tragedy of life. Never feel trapped or alone again. Know that love is where you greet the opportunity to walk into the outstretched arms of a savior and lover of your soul. Learn of Me and Pray

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781645699057

Book preview

Chapter 1

Lost in the Big City

Standing there next to my mother as she held my sweaty hands, Mom’s hands seemed to be as wet as mine. Remembering that huge house that seemed like a castle I had seen in one of my fairy tale books Mama had bought me. Grandfather bought this house with big plans in mind. Well, it was clear that he had accomplished his goal. Here we were in Chicago—the land of the blues, new skyscrapers, and the rhythm of Afro-American artist from everywhere. The South Side was known for fast times, fun times, and progressive movement. Chicago was the second most prominent city in the United States during the 1950s—the time that I was born. Yes, in 1954, I was born in that house it was the year my life began. A little girl that would get lost in this big city and go through many trials and tests to get to a powerful testimony to be shared in the millennium—which is now.

The House of Pain

The bustling of moving into Grandfather’s house was frantic. There would be four families living in one place. There would be Grandmother, Grandfather, two uncles, one aunt, three cousins, my mother, and me initially occupying this huge house. Mother and I would stay in the attic. It would not be long before everyone would begin to be living what everyone thought would be ideal for our family. However, it would not be so in the case of my mother and me. We were placed far from everyone and at the top of the house—the attic. At first, it was just a room, but the stairs to get there and the hard time I knew was on my mother to get to work (or anywhere for that matter) going down all those stairs to get to the street level would be the beginning of sorrows.

Then it would be the lonely feeling that would come over me of being alone. After mama left the house, the three rooms we occupied would become empty and full of spiritual and natural enemies to my soul. The separation of me from the rest of the family living in the house would surround the area where mama and I lived.

Grandfather and Grandmother must have had a little money because they could afford a gardener to tend to the lawn of the big house. There was plenty of room to play and run in the yard, so outside had become my first outlet from the attic.

The first encounter with the outside world proved to me there were family enemies when the gardener was threatened. He did not do anything except tell me about God. I remembered him asking me whether I knew God. He would say, Hey, little one, how are you doing today? I would be so glad that someone other than Mother greeted me with a smile, responding back would seem to come automatic. I’m all right, I’d politely speak back. Next thing I knew we were talking about Christ and how he died for our sins. But soon, those conversations were over. Grandmother had caught sight of me talking to the gardener with the friendly smile and fired him. Next she came rushing up to me asking what we were talking about. When I told her, she just didn’t believe me. She gave me a firm talking to about things that I could not even understand at the tender age of seven. I only knew the man was kind,