I was born in a small cabin in the woods to a seamstress and a sharecropper. Life was hard but I didn't know anything else. My parents provided the best they could and from a young age I remember working hard in the fields or helping mom darn those stockings. My only solace was found in books. We didn't have electricity so I would have to read by candlelight. We used to save the chicken fat and bacon drippings to use as a base for the candles. They smelled so good as they burned. People would remark as they walked past our humble abode, "They must eat good. It always smells like something's cookin'." 

Yes, they were hard times, but they're the only times I've ever known. One thing that we did have was laughter. Every now and again my father would dress up as a mime and we would guess what he was acting out during his performance. "OH - he's inside a box!" my mother would say. "LOOK MA," I remember saying, "He must be pulling something powerful heavy!"