The Mountain Mover

Every member of the Shitrit family was influenced in their own way by their familial array. I was the fourth daughter of seven children in the family. I was neglected, my clothes were worn out, dirty and wrinkled. My blonde hair was lusterless because it was rarely washed. My buttocks and slim legs ached from the blows of my father's leather belt. My arms were scarred with clock-shaped marks from my mother's sharp fangs. Was it for discipline or just to discharge the frustration of their hard lives? Nevertheless, I was a happy girl. I loved singing and dancing and playing with my friends. I loved my parents, brothers and sisters. I believed they loved me too. My parents never assigned any importance to education and studies, not even to order and cleanliness. Even if our nutrition was very basic, we never went hungry to bed. I always believed in the freedom of choice and the planning of our future in the long run and refused to cling to the backwardness of my childhood. Although I went on my way in the dark, when I grew up I discovered the light switch of my life. I started to rise with open and sober eyes and reached the important targets of my life - sometimes against the flow of life, which flows anyway. Over the years I became a successful woman. I achieved everything I wanted and I admit that I am a happy person.