It goes without saying that our grandparents had been unhappy when our mother eloped with a handsome, itinerant widower/preacher who had a large brood of children of his own. It certainly hadn't helped that he was not of their staunch Methodist faith and had introduced her to a foreign, radical, pentecostal way of worship. It was difficult for her to seek shelter back in her parents' home and to relinquish some degree of her independence in the rearing of her four girls. But the malaria had taken its toll, and she had no other choice but to return there. Our Aunt Nina, her older sister, and Uncle George became her caretakers as she recovered her health; the two sisters remained uniquely dedicated to each other for all their lives both living into their 90s.