During the time my mother was in the hospital, and later when my father also became ill—both having passed on within months of each other—I don't remember ever feeling traumatized or devastated, even though I loved them very much. I had attended a Christian Science Sunday School my whole life, and several church members cared for me and kept me in their homes during my father's hospitalization. Overall, everyone made me feel very secure.

I remember flying from Detroit to St. Louis with a family friend, Mary Helen Black. It was my first time on a plane, and I felt kind of nervous about starting this completely new life, but I also was excited about having a brother and a sister, since I'd been an only child. I was conscious of the fact that I'd come from somewhere else and hadn't been born into this family, so it took some time before I felt like this was really my own family. But right from the beginning I knew that they were loving me. The Watersons sat me down the first day I was in their home and said I could call them whatever made me comfortable—even "Hey, you." This put me at ease right away, and despite their offer I decided to call them Mom and Dad since I knew this was going to be my permanent situation.

A life INSPIRED by the Basotho
December 29, 2003

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