KATCHAS

Mmm-mmm-mmm what is that awful odor, I thought.

This was a very sick baby. He was drooling a the mouth and he had diarrhea! Looking back, I now, know that he was teething. Poor baby, poor me! I THINK I WAS ALMOST 8YRS.OLD-HE WAS ALMOST 8 MONTHS OLD.

His distress was my stress. I changed and hand washed his nasty, slimy cloth diapers. And, constantly cleaned his nose and face.

I prayed that he would only be staying only a few days until his mother would come and take him back. My prayers for her return were not answered. Not even my big brother would help with the baby. Instead they thought it was my fault for agreeing to hold onto it till its mother returned.

I had to name it, so I named it katchas, meaning just to hang-on as an outsider for a short while. I was kept out of school to care for this infant. It was torture for me. Washing cooking and constantly cleaning him as he cried non-stop.

He was a round faced baby with a curly mop of hair, and pleading round eyes that were always tear-filled. Sad for us both. (more details in upcoming book). I thank God when he napped.

I felt like dying. I knew that when I grew up I would never have children.