[iamkeri1]

Miss Tia
My brother was a student at Kent State During that time. I wonder if we are related ;-)

I'm sorry, I don't mean to tease you, but it was the love generation, after all. This is a beautiful story. Moms are so good about helping you figure things out. Sounds like you both had a good one. It's none of my business, but I'm interested in what happened to the baby?

I agree it is odd your sister does not remember this incident. How lucky that you could prove it to yourself through your journal entries.
Smooches
Keri

_

Originally Posted by Miss_Tia

back in the era of the vietnam war and daisy chains and hippie love, my sister found herself pregnant out of wedlock at Kent State University. She didnt want to tell my mom, didnt want to have an abortion, didnt want to drop out of college, didnt have money to raise the baby on her own and had no man to back the baby with a name. It was Easter time and she was wanting to go home but was paralyzed...not knowing what to do. Being pregnant out of wedlock back then was akin to wearing a red letter A on one's chest society-wise. So she went to visit a church. She has always been very spiritual and at one time, even wanted to be a nun.

As she was kneeling and praying, a priest walked up and sat down next to her. he spoke in broken english, and asked her what was wrong. She looked up and was stunned to see that the man looked so much like our dear departed grandmother, whom my sister was so very close to. My sister poured her story out to the priest, and he advised her to go home and tell our mother, to leave college to have the baby and God would help her to return to finish her degree. The priest told my sister he was a visiting priest, in for the holidays and hoped she would do well, as he didnt expect to see her again.

So my sister went home that weekend and told my mom. My mom was devastated but relieved that she wanted to have the baby. They made a plan and my sister went home to finish out the semester and then come home.
On her last week there, she went back to the church to find out if she could make contact with that priest. The church's priest looked strangely at her as she told her story, and informed her that there had been no visiting priest at the church for Easter. He had performed all the services himself.

My sister believed it was my grandmother herself, who has become our guardian angel. Or at least a spirit who watched over us.

My sister shared this story with me many times. Yet, when I brought it up to her recently, she has no memory of it. I traced it back in my journals that I have kept throughout the years. It was there several times. Why she does not remember now, when she and I spoke of it throughout our lives, I dont know.