Life of Rileigh

I was born a bastard at a county hospital.

When most girls of sixteen were getting their driver licenses my mother was getting herself a baby.

As a child I spent a lot of time in an orphanage called the Margaret Lloyd Stansel's Children's Asylum. My mother preferred to call it a boarding school or summer camp depending upon the time of year I was visiting.

Most every child who lived there had a parent, a grandparent, an aunt, uncle, or some other family member – somewhere or other. Including me. I don't blame my mother though – she had herself a hard-knock life, too.

Let me explain, when I was born in 1954, things were different. Unwed mothers were treated in a spiteful manner – including being excluded from social settings, and even family circles. I guess I should count my blessings that my mother tried her best to raise me.

I'm sure my life is different from yours. There are not many orphanages operating today. Well, the long and the short of it is – that this is my story – about when things were a wee bit different.

My name is Rileigh Ophelia Horton, I think.

This was my life – The Life of Rileigh