have always prided myself on being a strong, independent, courageous woman. It was the way I was raised. Or rather, it is the direct result of practically raising myself, with parents who were too busy “surviving,” to really pay attention. Either way, my two sisters and I only know from hard work and trudging along, and have all as a result, ended up fairly well off because of it.
We all started working at a very young age. I started at the age of 11 years old, delivering The Gazette newspaper on my street and babysitting in my neighborhood. I only stopped working for a short time in my life (4 ½ years to be exact) after I got married, when my doctor put me on bed rest for my second or third pregnancy (I lost count). Unfortunately, in the first few years of my marriage, I had several pregnancies that ended in miscarriage before I was blessed enough to go full term with my miracle son Louis, who is now 8 years old. I felt so grateful everyday to have him, that I didn’t want to go back to work until he was ready for full-time preschool at age 4.