My Sister Delseta

by Iris [last name excluded at author’s request]

This story about my sister Delseta starts with my brother Ken and me. Ken and I had to wake up very early every morning to help out on our family’s farm in Jamaica, and we often had to help out after school, too. Our farm had animals – chickens, pigs, goats and cows, and we grew yams, sugar cane, mangoes, cabbage, cucumbers, peppers, peas, coffee beans, and cocoa from which chocolate is made. We sold the fresh milk we got from our cows. There was always so much work to be done.

Sometimes it was cold early in the mornings, and the lower parts of our clothes got wet. We had many chores to do before we went to school. We had no choice that’s what life was about on the farm.

With Delseta, it was another story entirely. Delseta was the youngest of us six children. She was six years younger that I am. She was dark and pretty and the prize and pride of our family. I loved her very much. I used to love to bathe her and comb her hair and get her all dressed up.

When Delseta was about seven years old, a teacher in our school, fell in love with her, and asked Delseta if she would like to come and live with her. I thought the teacher was joking, but no. She came to our house and asked my parents if Delseta could live with her. Think it over, she said. After she left our father said, if she is looking for a maid, she is out of luck, but if she wants to help our family I’ll consider it.

The teacher returned soon afterwards. She and my parents had a long talk about the terms that would have to be in effect if Delseta lived with her.

Delseta would have to be treated right and not used as a maid. Finally my father agreed. He knew that if she remained with us eventually she would have to help out on the farm and there was no way he was going to let that happen. Delseta was the apple of his eye and he adored her. He loved her so much that any time she misbehaved, he had an excuse for her. With Ken and me there were never and excuses, just punishment.

Delseta lived with that teacher until she became a woman, the teacher took good care of her. Delseta went on from primary school to high school and from there to college, where she became a teacher herself. My father was always happy that Delseta fared so well, and our family benefited, too. In those days, our family’s income from the farm amounted to very little, still we made do, and we were a very happy family.

Secretly, I wished that the teacher had chosen me, but deep down I knew that that could never be because I was needed on the farm, and I loved my brother Ken and my parents too much to leave them. Being needed is gratifying, too.