When I was a young girl I lived with my parent and six other siblings, boys and girls. I was the oldest. When I was 16 my father, who was a police officer, died in an accident. The pension from his police work was meager, as he had not had those many years of service, and as he did not die in the line of duty. That left us in a very difficult situation.

The landlord, a man that owned many pieces of property came to see us to see how were going to meet the rent, and if not when we were going to move out. He gave us 60 days. I stared at him, not out of disrespect, but out of disbelief. All he had to do was look around.

One afternoon he came by to see what the decision was. My mother could say nothing, there was nothing to say. There was no money for rent and what little we got went to food, so I asked him if there was a job I could do for him, anything. I was 16 and I could work after school.

I got a job, if I did my job right the rent was forgiven, and if I did my job right, we would get gifts of clothes and other things we needed. My mother showed me how to do my job right, to makes sure that we did not lose a place to live.

I got the hot water to bathe, and a little money to get my hair cut, and always had the choice of clothes. I was taught how to sit and listen, how to pay attention, and how to do my job right.

We were not evicted, I did my job.