I was ten years old and my father came home in the evening terribly drunk.

In my mind my father was very handsome man. I Looked at my mother's pictures of him when he came home drunk and realized that THEN, to her, he looked very different, he looked like the lower image.

My mother may think she hid most of this from me, but I certainly had the impact.

She kicked him out of the house and tried hard to hide her anger from me.

My father certainly knew he had run into a buzz saw!

The next day he stayed away from home. My mother then learned that there had been some terrible accident and he was staying at a friend's house.

Mother went immediately and learned the bad news that her husband was hurt and also embarrassed. She forgave him the drinking, as a good wife and mother would do, and started instantly on caring for him. The doctor said that he was in such bad shape that he probably would not live through the next few months.

I loved my father a great deal and didn't understand "drunkenness" nor have the viewpoint my mother did -- all I wanted was my father back and to be well.

We were active members in the Christian Church in our village and I certainly expected that God would help.

I prayed often to God, but much of the time my prayers dealt with trivial matters. This time I felt that I had to "really pray hard!"

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