Secrets, Secrets, and More Secrets — No More!
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She escaped and found a way to achieve joy and happiness through God's love.
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Secrets, Secrets, and More Secrets — No More! - Gina Penelton
Morning
Prelude
Sin, sex and lies were rampant in the Penelton family and the small town they lived in.
Brothers sleeping with sisters, brothers stealing from brothers, and mothers lying to her siblings.
A principal abused young girls.
A father taking his ten-year-old son to X-rated movies, and young children playing strip poker.
A young boy shot a lumber jack.
A revengeful wife put urine
in her husband’s coffee.
A woman gave abortions to young women around town, using a crochet hook.
A grandfather, in extreme pain, took his own life.
CHAPTER 1
Troubled
Where does this story begin? It begins with me, a frightened, little girl, alone, afraid, and wondering Why am I here? Why was I born?
Hi, my name is Gina.
Confused, alone and scared, I sat all alone on a bank next to a big tree in the woods about a half a mile from my house. This was a spot I would go whenever I felt scared and alone. It was here I felt safe and close to God. I felt close to God because every Sunday my mom took me to church, located about seven miles from our house. I was anxious to get dressed for Sunday school every Sunday morning because I loved going to Church. I would get dressed up, wearing my Sunday best, skirts and blouses that my mom sewed for me. She made most of my clothes, using fabric she found in second-hand stores, since times were hard and money was tight.
This Sunday morning, the car started right up. We traveled down the two-track road, which was full of ruts and rocks. Trees hovered overhead on both sides of the road, kind of like driving through a tunnel, then the road widened and turned to sand and gravel the rest of the way to town. We liked to get to church early so I could go to my Sunday school class. I liked my Sunday school teacher because she brought treats for all of the kids. The teacher rounded up the kids in her class and herded them downstairs to their classroom, then started talking about God. She said, God is good, God loves you, and always remember that God is always watching you. Don’t ever forget, God is always watching you.
I didn’t remember everything from her Sunday school class, but that statement stuck with me most of my growing up years. I never wanted to do anything really bad because I just knew God would see me and not be happy.
Out by this big tree, I felt safe and close to God. I had packed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and carried that and a little stuffed animal, and my big, black dog stayed by my side. I looked at the sky, hoping I could get a glimpse of anything that would put a smile on my face. I’d already seen more than most six-year-old girls would ever see. I’d thought of running away from home, but there was nowhere to go but back to the only world I knew.
To Leave
To leave is to escape from the coldness of self-centered people, from the pain of close relationships, from the interaction necessary to survive in this crummy world. To leave is to gain relief from stress and strain from frustration and conflict from the competitiveness of this crummy world.
To leave is to be free from responsibility, from conformity, from everything that affects you in this crummy world. Many of these thoughts would surface in my mind as I grew older.
It was another morning on the farm with no alarm clocks to wake up to because there were no alarm clocks; no phone calls because there was no phone, and no watching television, as there wasn’t a television in the house. There was just me getting ready for another day at school. I had dressed in a pink sweater because my teacher told me that my cheeks glowed when I wore pink. As I finished dressing, I heard yelling going on in the kitchen, which was located right next to my bedroom, and this happened more times than I wanted to remember. It was my parents arguing… You are not going.
Yes I am.
I’m sick of your mom always needing you to do something for her and always around dinnertime. She always wants you over there. I fix dinner for you and wait for you, the food gets cold and finally when you come home, you tell me you ate at your mom’s. All she does is interfere with our lives.
Well, all you do is yell at me, so why would I want to come home? Just shut up and leave my mom out of this.
Why? Your mom is the one who causes all this. Now just leave!! The kids are getting up now and I don’t want to argue with you anymore.
(I was the one who always heard the fighting. I was the unlucky one to have my room right next to the kitchen where my folks would always have their morning fights. My sister Georgia had a bedroom on the opposite side of the house and my brother David’s bedroom was upstairs. They weren’t the unfortunate ones to hear the daily yelling that went on in the kitchen, first thing every morning.)
I finished getting dressed and was hoping mom would notice my pretty pink sweater as I danced into the kitchen for breakfast. But mom