From My Father's Womb: The Life of Miriam Hunt

By Miriam Hunt

Just me because of Him.

Running the race for forty-five years and winning!

His mercy and grace is sufficient for me.

Living my dream as He blessed me in North Carolina. Leaving everything in His hands.

Believing by faith, He does provide all.

I'm still being sculptured by Him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 18, 2024
• ISBN: 9798889430544

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From My Father's Womb

The Life of Miriam Hunt

Miriam Hunt

ISBN 979-8-88943-053-7 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88943-054-4 (digital)

Copyright © 2024 by Miriam Hunt

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Preface

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

In the Beginning

Chapter 2

The Dark Side of Innocence

Chapter 3

The Threefold Lifeline

Chapter 4

The Music in Me

Chapter 5

A Tree Moves to Brooklyn

Chapter 6

Young Love…and Trouble

Chapter 7

Meeting Jesus

Chapter 8

The Unexpected

Chapter 9

An Awkward Beginning

Chapter 10

God Sent an Army of One

Chapter 11

And the Two Shall Be One

Chapter 12

The Battle Begins

Chapter 13

It's the Little Things that Count

Chapter 14

Breaking the Chains

Chapter 15

Favor from God

Chapter 16

Calvin Hunt Ministries Begins

Chapter 17

The New Life and the Untimely Death

Chapter 18

But God Was Able

Chapter 19

The Itch!

Chapter 20

The Widow

Chapter 21

Back to School

Chapter 22

Belated Obedience

New Beginnings

About the Author

To my husband, my love, my heart, Calvin Keith Hunt (1957–2009).

If God had not joined us together, there would be much less to tell.

Preface

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the afflicted; He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to captives and freedom to prisoners. (Isaiah 61:1 NASB)

My name is Miriam Hunt, and this is my story. Many people know me as the wife of gospel artist and singer Calvin Hunt. Although I was blessed to be that, there is so much more to who I am. It's time for me to open my mouth and open my heart, and so I invite you to look backward over my life with me. Together we will see what great things God has done in the lives of my family and myself.

I earnestly hope that God be glorified through what I share and that you will be enlightened and encouraged as we journey together through the past.

I won't attempt to share everything. That would be tiresome to both you and me. Because this story is about God's goodness, I will attempt to focus primarily on revealing the majesty of who He is by sharing the inside story of life-changing moments with the Lord.

To help me with recalling memories and with recording those memories, I told my story to one person over a period of two years. That person wishes to remain anonymous and uncompensated.

I will do my best to share the facts as I know them to be. Being human, I'm confident that others may recall events differently than I will record them here. I ask in advance for your tolerance and forgiveness. There is only one truth-teller who is perfect. His name is Jesus.

Calvin and Miriam Hunt, November 2006

Acknowledgments

To my precious pastor, Michael Durso, who cried with me from the very beginning. You never ceased praying for me. I thank you with an everlasting love. To my spiritual mom, Maria Durso, for continually teaching and disciplining me. Thank you. Wisdom flows from you.

To Pastor Jim and Carol Cymbal, through you came the encouragement that released Calvin and me to serve the Lord through music and witness. Thank you. Mucho Gracias. Dziękuję.

To Chaplain Juan and Adriana Pichardo, I'm forever grateful to you for the love you never fail to share with my family and me. To my mom, Petra Felicita Silva, who waits for me in heaven. She always believed in me and prayed for me out of many jams. To my daughter, Monique Morales, who understood me and washed my feet before taking her place in heaven. To my inspiring son, Wilfredo Morales, who never stops boasting in the Lord on my behalf. To my daughter, Mia Hunt, who knows me so well. I'm so blessed to have you. You push me forward. To my amazing son, Calvin Emmanuel Hunt, who encouraged me while serving his country as we both took baby steps forward in our lives. We were soldiers in different places yet joined to one and the same God.

To my last—and best—cell group of women, united in Christ and a love for serving others medically: Angelina Acevedo Hemphill, Lisa Joseph, Adela Davila, Margarette O'Hara, Feliciano Jessica Fernandez Isom, Dr. Niki Caggiano, Karen Carroll, Lillian Vega, and Maritza Medal. You were all so instrumental in my life.

Thank you for allowing God to use me in your lives and for your prayers.

Calvin & Miriam Hunt, November 2006

Chapter 1

In the Beginning

And though your beginning was small, your latter days will be very great.

—Job 8:7 (ESV)

I'm going to start by telling you a few things about my genealogy and childhood. Both of these things had a significant influence on who I am. I want you to know right up front that I loved my parents dearly, and I forgive them for everything. Thank you, Jesus!

My mother, Petra Felicita Tarrats, was born in Ponce, Puerto Rico, in 1929. My mother's mother immigrated to the United States in 1947, along with her five children. My mom was eighteen years old. My mom's father, whom I never met except through photographs, was a merchant marine and Haitian by birth. Mom would tell how Grandma divorced this husband and how these five children of hers felt abandoned. She then married Mr. Lopez, a light-skinned, blue-eyed Puerto Rican with straight hair. To the best of my knowledge, he was from Carolina, Puerto Rico.

My dad, Alejandro Silva, was born in 1923 in San Juan, Puerto Rico's most populated metropolitan area. My dad was nicknamed Ale (Al-lay). He was six years older than my mom.

Dad worked for a manufacturing company in Long Island City in the borough of Queens. The business was located on Pearson Street. They made vanity accessories such as metal dresser sets and perfume bottles.

He was well placed in this job because it allowed him to sponsor other family members emigrating from Puerto Rico. Throughout my childhood, these emigrants were housed in our homes, and the men were hired where Dad worked. Dad was a deeply caring man, always eager to put his hand out to help others. My father worked very hard, saving money with the goal of buying a house for his growing family.

My dad was also a gang member. Without understanding the history, purpose, and significance of gangs, especially in New York City, it will be impossible to explain the normalcy of a man belonging to a gang. Let's just say that gangs were often a useful element of society and sometimes even vitally necessary. Belonging to a gang did not necessarily call to mind the violence or disregard for the law that we see in today's gangs.

Mom was a practicing Jehovah's Witness when she met my dad. As told to me by her, she loved to play the piano, especially at parties and gatherings. She knew quite a number of people and had an active social life.

My parents married in 1950. Their first home was an apartment at 112th Street and Lexington Avenue. When they married, Mom adapted to Dad's preferences. He didn't like her being a Jehovah's Witness so she quit that religion. And since he didn't like her drawing attention to herself with piano playing, she quit that too. It was all so short-lived that most had no knowledge of what she loved being and doing. He also did not allow her to work outside the home, at least not at first. My mother complied with these demands and allowed her life to be shrunk down to the confines of their apartment. She adapted to his preferences and his lifestyle in large part because she was deeply in love with him. Her mind was intoxicated with him. She was blind to his manipulation of her life for many years because she was so in love with him.

During my childhood, we lived in Manhattan's Lower East Side near the East River. Our first family home on the island was literally a blessing of the Lord. The word Baruch means blessing, and we all felt that blessing as we moved into our apartment at 90 Baruch Drive.

The Projects or NYC Housing Development is a collection of red-brick high-rise public housing buildings, admittedly a tired collection of buildings today. But in 1959, it was brand spanking new, and our apartment on the fourth floor of a thirteen-story building was still fragrant with the heady aromas of newness given off by paint and plaster. The floors glistened with brightness. We'd never seen anything like it.

My mom's brothers and sisters