THURSDAY'S CHILD.

"Thursday's Child has far to go"....She was born on a Thursday and from the very beginning it seemed her journey would be long.  She was conceived by rape.  For years she had no idea who her real parents were.  She never met her father.  Her life was what some would call a "hodge podge,"  a confused and disorderly mess or a weird collection of things. She was born in a town called "North" which was really in the deep south.  It was actually in South Carolina.  From early childhood she was raised by relatives who mistreated her. The local children made fun of her and called her an ugly duckling.  They called her "yellow girl" and tied her to a tree and threw rocks at her.  Did I mention that she was of mixed race?  Her mother was of Cherokee and Black descent.  Her father was White.  She was a Thursday's Child.  She had a "far ways to go."

It was an Aunt that raised her until about the age of eight.  Raised is a word of many meanings.  In this instance it means providing some food and shelter.  That was about it.  No guidance and very little, if any, love.  When  Thursday's Child was about the age of eight, her Aunt met and went to live with a Black man that wanted nothing to do with the child.  He said her complexion  was to pale.  She then lived with other family members for a couple of years  and was finally sent to New York to live with yet another family member.  She would later learn that this woman she was sent north to live with was really her birth mother.  This would be the first time she lived with indoor plumbing and electric lights.  I know this sounds likes a big improvement in her life but in fact, things were far from better.  Her mother mostly ignored her and the Harlem school kids were as harsh as the South Carolina children had been.  Her saving grace came when some of the school teachers began to respond to her.  She had always done well in school as she had a passion for reading and learning.  The other thing that really opened her up was a woman at the church she was attending.  The main reason she went to church was because of the music.  She loved the old gospel singing and wanted to  be a part of the choir.  As she became involved in the choir and began singing more and more,  this woman came up to her one day,  placed her hand on the child's shoulder and said to her..."You my child were born with the hand of God on your shoulder."  Thursday's Child said at this very moment,  she felt a spark inside her that started a fire to burning.

What you have just read isn't a fairy tale.  It isn't a made up story.  It is about a real person.  A Thursday's Child.  Last week as I was reading the old Nursery Rhyme my mind once again started to wander.  What day of the week was I born on I asked myself?

Monday's child is fair of face,

Tuesday's child is full of grace,

Wednesday's child is full of woe

Thursday's child has far to go,

Friday's child is loving and giving,

Saturday's child works hard for a living,

But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day

Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.

OH I thought to myself,  any of these would be good except Wednesday's or Thursdays child.  Then I looked up my birthday to see which I was and guess what?
Yep...Thursday it was.  Just my luck I thought.  Of course it could have been Wednesday's and I would have been full of Woe.  I have been told I was full of something before but it wasn't Woe.  But now I was being told I had far to go.  Darn I thought to myself......" I hope it isn't to far.  I'm getting pretty old for a long journey."
And then, as my mind often does, I started to think about journeys and distances.  I thought to myself..."What makes a journey long?  Is it made long because of where you're going or maybe it's determined by where you are starting from?  It could be long or short because of who you are traveling with,  or whether you are with anyone at all.  All of this thinking made me think of Peggy asking me if I wanted to take a walk around the block to which I responded ....."Why?  I'm already here."  But as I thought of that I remember another journey Peggy and I went on many years ago.  It was what many people would call a long journey.  We just called it our Honeymoon.  You see,  most of our friends took a few days for their honeymoon or a week at the most.  We took three and a half weeks.  We drove the northern route to  San Francisco,  then flew to Hawaii for a few days and then drove back through Los Angeles and the southern route home.  You see.....our journey started at home and ended at home....Kind of like a long walk around the block.   But it was a special journey.  It was special not because of where it started or where it ended but because of the places it took us in between.  The things we saw and the times we shared.  It was made good because of who I was with. It was a wonderful journey

Sometimes now I look back at my life's journey and say to myself the line from the song by Jerry Reed..."I've got a long way to go and a short time to get there."  Sometimes we look at our life and get a little sad.  I think that's how we sometimes look at our life journey when we get a little older.  We think "If I had only done this or only done that.  If I had only made this decision instead of that one."  Or sometimes we try to justify where we are in our journey by a decision someone else made.  Or we blame our place in life on where we came from.  I've tried to use all these excuses before and none of them worked.  None of the excuses satisfied me.  Sure I wish I had done some things differently but I really can't complain to much.  I've had a very good journey so far.  I've had some bad times and I've had some great times.  Some of you have had it better than me and some have had it worse.  But one thing is for sure.  No one has had better travel companions than I have.  I've enjoyed the things I've done and the things I've seen on this journey we call life.  Why do I think my life has been so good you ask?  It's really very simple.  You see,  I'm just like the lady I was writing about at the beginning of this post.  I was born with the "
Hand of God' on my shoulder.
He has watched over me everyday of my life and even though I'm getting older,  God's hand is still there.  I'm older but I've still got  "far to go."  You see....."I'm a Thursday's Child." You know,  I'm not so sure all of us don't have a little of "Thursday's Child" in us.

In case you were wondering who the lady I was writing about  in the beginning was, her name was Eartha Kitt.  Some of you will remember her and some of you won't.  She wrote an autobiography titled "Thursdays Child."  It's worth the read.

In the meantime,  be thankful for your lot in life.  Sometimes you may forget but You too were born with the "Hand of God" on your shoulder.

God bless.