Abandoned Life ~ Autobiography

Part One:

Childhood Years, Childhood Tears; The Perils of Tinka

March 19, 1953 God did not take her at birth…he had other plans.  This little girl Tinka grew up in a South Africa home filled with laughter, tears, unbearable heartache… un-imaginable pain.

Mother the one with the iron hand when things went wrong…Dad the healer at times after a good hiding.

Her dad always looked out for the kids when they did something bad when mom would send them to the bathroom; always telling her upfront, to take it easy on them, and that kids will be kids.  But oh boy, don’t let him lose his temper…one hitting from him was like a hundred from mom.  Not as hurtful, but the speech he would give you before touching your toes was much worse than the death penalty itself.  It was for Tinka far more painful than the physical pain itself.

Often Tinka and her mom would argue.  On one occasion they disagreed on how to be a good person, and not a selfish one like her little sister turned out to be in later years.  Her mom spoiled the relationship by taking sides and Tinka quickly learned to be a loner…or hang around with the boys instead.

But when not in trouble with her parents, the relationship was not that bad.  Okay they were not allowed much; life was always hard with not much money that could make it easier.

Most days after school found Tinka babysitting her baby sister while her mom did the housework.  She even started to do the ironing jobs for her mother at a very young age, even before she went to school.

Then there were the times she enjoyed having times out of the house.  Even though those times did not always end up being the greatest fun; kids would be kids, and dad knew that and so did the boys.

Being a girl growing up with two wicked brothers, four years before little sister showed her face, Tinka soon realized fighting back does not always help...and tears even less so.

So she became this “tom-boy” that did not stand back on a dare…come hell or high water she would jump in head first, if she had to.  The boys knowing this would take her on special adventure rides on their bikes…she on her tri-cycle, no way she was staying home baking cookies with mom.  Adventures gave way to evil tricks from her brothers.  One day they took Tinka to play hide and seek planning one of their dirty tricks to be pulled off in the riverbed.  Covering their defecation with sand they encouraged Tinka to search for the treasure.  Off she went digging for the “gold” only to find the evil surprise… one more for the boys but it didn’t stop there.  Her prize for the find, a ride on the swing, the one hanging over the edge of the riverbank supported by a single rope that you had to hold on to with arms and legs wrapped around like a monkey!

They would push each other nicely but when it was Tinka’s turn to ride things always went awry; bumping with her back first into the tree and landing on her butt down below!  But she was not allowed to cry or tell on them, telling her that they would never play with her again.  So she never told, just endured.  Over the years she became a very tough little girl who cropped up her feelings and never showed her fear.