July 18th, 1970

     *Ann*

     I was playing around on the front yard of the St. Augusta Church. My mother was inside praying. I was only seven at the time. But I knew when to be quiet. I walked over to the playground behind the church. Children were playing happily. I hid in the brush quietly. I didn’t think anyone wanted to play with me because, well, I was... different. Maybe that’s why my mother didn’t like me so much.

     Then, I saw a carousal in the middle of the playground. Many children were riding on it. An older man was pushing them around. Suddenly, I wanted to play with him and them. So, I took small steps towards the carousal. I still felt uneasy about the whole idea. But I had to try it.

     I made my way to the carousal. I stood behind the father and tugged on his long coat. He looked down and saw me. I stood still. “What is it?” he asked. I hesitated at first. Then I asked him clearly, “Can you put me up there?” He watched as I pointed to the carousal. “Well, where’s your mother?” the man asked. “She’s praying” I answered. “All right.” he replied. Then he lifted me up and place me onto the carousal. I rode along with the other kids. For once, I felt normal. I even felt like I had a father.

     I spent the afternoon playing on the playground. I was enjoying myself for once. Then, I saw my “daddy” leaving with his sons. I wanted to go home with them. So I raced to them and tried to follow behind. My “daddy” turned and saw me. I sped up. But the reception was icy cold. “Go on.” he said. I still followed. The man grew frustrated. “Go on, now,” he repeated. I didn’t listen. Finally, my “daddy” looked disturbed. “Go on. Run away along and play, little girl.” he commanded. Then, he lightly pushed me away and left. I sat down upon a swing and watched him leave. Again, I was alone.