Olga - A Daughter's Tale Read Online Free PDF Page B

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    White marble steps lead to the Main Altar and the life size figure of Our Lord hanging on the Cross. The rose windows tower above the mosaic decoration on the walls where the 14 stations of the cross hang and there are also the statues of St. Anthony, the patron saint of missing people, St Francis, the patron saint of animals and the Little Flower, St Therese. Left of the main altar is the Altar of Our Lady and on the right of it is the Altar of St Joseph with the Child Jesus in his arms.
    Another year, another candle. Eight years since Ma died and six since Pa. I thought he’d go first. Who would have guessed that when I said goodbye to them that foggy afternoon on Avonmouth docks all those years ago, it would be the last time I’d see or speak to them?
    I still have all the letters I sent them and which they returned, unopened. They never found it in their hearts to forgive me for marrying Henry.
    “Ma, did you find it as heartbreaking as I did to remove me so completely from your life; did I really cease to exist for you?”
    “Did you ever think about your grandchildren? Did you ever wonder what they looked like?”
    “Why did you punish them, for my actions? You paid a high price for your prejudice, never knowing the love or experiencing the joy of getting to know your wonderful 11 grandchildren.

    Settling down: Coming to Jamaica for a holiday was one thing, but settling down to live here permanently was another. I had so much to adjust to in Kingston. The heat, humidity and dust were the worst things to cope with, especially when I was pregnant with Sydney, my first child; the heat drains you of all energy. And then there were the insects – the mosquito bites, oh I was bitten from top to bottom and sometimes I would get ill and develop a fever.
    Henry said I had very sweet blood and that’s why they would bite me. Hardly any consolation, but night time was better because we slept with a net over our beds. We threw out all our upholstered furniture and rugs because fleas were breeding in them and replaced them with polished floors and cane furniture. Ants were a terrible nuisance; they were everywhere, particularly where there was food.
    Earthquakes terrified me. One of the worst happened one day when I was visiting Lucy and I had Sydney, Cassie and Vivie with me. Lucy and I were sitting on her veranda and as she got up to go and make tea, without any warning the ground began to tremble and there was a terrible noise. It was as if we were underneath a railway arch and a very long train was passing over our heads, but the noise was like a great roar and a hundred times greater than a train. The whole experience only lasted about 10 seconds. Vivie slept through it but Sydney and Cissie started crying because the noise was so loud.
    The earthquake was felt all over the island and the fires which followed just about destroyed Kingston. People rushed out into open to places like Victoria Park and Kingston race course where they stayed for days.
    Life was hard then, but manageable, especially when you’re in love. Because of my marriage, I became infamous.
    “You’re a notorious wanton woman now” Henry would say teasing me.
    People would point at me or just stand and stare and many, including people I had once considered to be friends, would cross the road to avoid walking past me. White and coloured Jamaicans would spit at me and the name calling was endless; nigger-lover was the most common
    I tried to understand how Jamaica’s Christian middle and upper classes, supposedly wise, intelligent and intellectual people, could treat others in such a cruel manner.
    But these inconveniences, as I called them, were more than made up for by the charm, dignity and generosity of spirit I found among the black Jamaicans in spite of their circumstances. I smile inwardly when I read in the papers how the Government likes to promote the view overseas and, particularly to tourists who visit the island, that whites and