From Nudged by God

Last year, at a grandson's suggestion, I wrote my autobiography. It is not an elaborate piece of literature; just a short biography of about 50 pages. I wrote it so my children and grandchildren would know what it was like growing up during the Great Depression, maturing during World War II, and living in its aftermath. I called it, My Story-Nudged By God. That title seemed appropriate because, (quoting from the introduction).

"Although others may see nothing but coincidence and chance operating in their lives, I do not believe that the incidents which have shaped my life can be attributed to the random events of this world. Given my belief in the love of God for each of His creatures, it is more logical for me to conclude that at critical moments I have been 'nudged by God'."

For example, consider the chances of Sarah (my wife) and I meeting and getting married. Since she was born and raised in Puerto Rico, and I in Central Louisiana, those odds are certainly no better than several million to one. Now when you rule chance out of an incident, you look for cause. However, all the common causes used to predict marriage are also ruled out in our case. We don't come from the same cultural or ethnic background. As children, we didn't even speak the same language. We didn't grow up in the same area. We didn't go to school together. We didn't go to the same church. We didn't meet in college. We waited beyond the usual age for marrying. Of the thousands of Puerto Ricans who migrated to the U.S in l948, most went to New York City. However, Sarah came to Louisiana to visit her brother, the only other Puerto Rican ever to settle in the small town of Oakdale, where I was raised. Why? What operated to bring her and me together and keep us together for 55 years? I must believe that it was God's nudge for both of us.

There are many important events in my life, such as getting the money to go to college, and becoming a school teacher, which I believe were brought about with a nudge from God. Not a forceful push or shove, just a gentle nudge. A most profound one occurred during a time of need when I was small.

I was about 18 months old; my Grandmother was 42, and Great Grandmother was 68, when my 19 year old Mother, Pearl, returned home to Oakdale, Louisiana with her two babies. She had dropped out of the state teachers' college in Natchitoches to get married, but the marriage didn't last. She tried working in Oakdale after returning home, but could find nothing to interest her, so she moved to Lake Charles. There she worked at a private business college, while she completed a program in bookkeeping. A great uncle, adopted my sister, but wanted no boys, so I was left with the two older women. There were no men in the house, since my Grandfather had died many years before. I don't think it was an enjoyable situation for either the women or me, as the following incident suggests.

We were walking down the hall to the hotel lobby where the telephone hung on the wall, and I was a little anxious about going back to "Grandma's" after a delightful week with the Parrish's. I believe I was about 2 years old.

"Aunt Bun", I said, "can't I stay just one more day?"
She replied with a smile, "You have no more clean clothes,".
"You can wash 'em," I replied.
"But your Grandma said you could stay only a week," she said.
"Please call and ask her if I can stay longer," I pleaded. "I want to stay here with y'all"
She looked down into my face for a moment, then said, "OK; I'll call, if you really want to stay."

"Oh yes! Oh yes!" I said, as I hugged her around the knees. I don't know when I began to live permanently with the Parrish's, for I never remember living with my Grandmother. This event is the first thing in my life that I can recall.

"Aunt Bun", Mrs. Nannie Mae Parrish, and "Daddyman", R.B. Parrish, owned the hotel in Oakdale, La. where my mother had worked for a while after she returned home. They were in their 40's, and had no children. Because they were kind and loving, and took the time to notice a two year-old kid with no father, I was naturally drawn to them. These two were my parents in every way other than biological.

The second event I remember in my life occurred when I was about four years old. Daddyman and Aunt Bun took me with them on a trip to Galveston, Texas. I don't remember the trip. I only remember the wonderful time I had playing in the surf with Daddyman. He was in the water to his waist holding me in his arms. We were under a pier holding to a rope so we could jump when a wave washed in. Of course, the water got into my face and sometimes covered my head, but instead of crying, I screamed with delight. We continued until I am sure he was exhausted before we came ashore. I remember someone asking me if I was afraid, and I replied, "I couldn't be scared in Daddyman's arms."

When asked about my 'Mama and Daddy' as a child, I always replied, "Pearly borned me, but Aunt Bun is my Mama." They raised me to manhood. No child, natural or adopted, ever had parents who were more loving and devoted. Whatever good I might have done and whatever I have accomplished, I owe to them. Had it not have been for them, My Story, if written at all, probably would be a less positive tale. Was this coincidence? Or did God take the hand of a little boy in need and place it into the hands of a loving mother and father? I don't know what others might believe, but as for me I can only accept the latter explanation.

I thank God each day for His love, and His gentle nudges.
May, 2008