This autobiography details my journey from disability to ability and how hope and grace have influenced my path to recovery. It is my prayer that this story will touch your life and you might find hope for your personal journey or for someone you love. Here is your ticket to recovery: Help yourself first, and then help others. Overcome your own barriers. Prevent your mental pain. Educate yourself. Walking in HOPE, Living in Grace The Tapestry By Maryalyce Poole Balboa Press Copyright © 2014 Maryalyce Poole All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-4525-9539-9 Contents Introduction, ix, Chapter 1 Hope in Family, 1, Chapter 2 Hope in Companions, 6, Chapter 3 Hope in New Places, 13, Chapter 4 Hope through the Darkness, 20, Chapter 5 Hope in Home, 23, Chapter 6 Hope in Meaningful Activity, 28, Chapter 7 Hope in Transitions, 33, Chapter 8 Hope in Commitment, 38, Chapter 9 Hope in the Kindness of Strangers, 43, Chapter 10 Hope through Despair, 47, Chapter 11 Hope in Change, 50, Chapter 12 Hope in New Chapter, 54, Chapter 13 Hope in Filling the Emptiness, 62, Chapter 14 Hope in Light, 67, Chapter 15 Hope in Dreams, 69, Chapter 16 Hope in a Relationship with God, 73, Chapter 17 Hope in Spiritual Direction, 77, Chapter 18 Grace for the Journey, 81, Chapter 19 Grace to Share Spirituality, 84, Chapter 20 Grace to Move On, 93, Chapter 21 Grace to Answer the Tough Questions, 96, CHAPTER 1 HOPE IN FAMILY Who am I on this journey of hope? The hills were alive but not with the sound of music. A father was driving his colicky baby girl around the Pocono Mountains. Riding in the car soothed the child and lessened the wailing. Only a few weeks old, the baby girl's name was Lynedithclar. Her mother was upset and suffered from a mental-health problem called melancholia. The birth certificate had already been issued, and the baby girl was to be baptized in a few weeks. The mother would not respond to her husband's questions about why she was so melancholy. A few days before the baptism, the mother aggressively stated that she did not like the baby's chosen name and wanted to name her after herself and her best friend. Thus, the name on my birth certificate was changed to Maryalyce Budjinski. The first of my many name changes occurred before I was even one month old. I was baptized and confirmed as Maryalyce on May 16, 1948, by Reverend Michael Oleksew at Saints Peter and Paul Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. It was a bit of a surprise that my godparents were Roman Catholic. My godmother was my father's sister; she and her fiancé would marry several months later. The Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church allows Roman Catholics to serve as godparents. As a child, I found it hard to keep still. Perpetual motion was part of my life as a two-year-old. One time I jumped out of a highchair to greet my daddy and broke my collar bone. Keeping still was a real chore. A different kind of moving—relocation—became part of the tapestry of my life. We moved from Trucksville, Pennsylvania, to Wyoming, Pennsylvania, when I was four years old. Moving was part of my family history. My great-grandmother, Anna Opryazka, who I called Baba, came from Poland, and Githo, my great- grandfather, Anthony Opryazka, came from the Ukraine. Grandma Tedesco, Frances Ann Opryazka, was born in Peckville, Pennsylvania, and Grandpa Tedesco, Charles, was born in Genoa, Italy. Grandma Schrader Budjinski was born in Glen Lyon, Pennsylvania, and Grandpa Walter Budjinski (Budjizinski) was born in Poland. The spelling of his name was changed when he entered the United States at Ellis Island. My maternal grandparents, Frances and Charles Tedesco, lived at Baba's house at 826 Ridge Road up on the mountain in Peckville, Pennsylvania. Grandpa Tedesco and I would walk through the woods, past the railroad tracks and over the creek toward Backeties, a beer garden, and Fred's, the candy store. Before Grandpa went into Backeties, he'd give me twenty-five cents to go to Fred's. Later, we'd meet outside the beer garden and walk back up the mountain. I wasn't afraid to walk to the candy store by myself. Grandpa said I had a good sense of direction and would be able to do anything I wanted. I knew each rock along the path, the smell and placement of each tree and flower. Grandpa gave me the confidence to go down the mountain by myself. He knew about my imaginary friend, Judy, and told me it was okay. His friends were the parakeets that had saved his life more than once in the mines. Grandpa was a coal miner who raised the parakeets that descended into the mine with the men. If methane gas was present, the birds would get dizzy or die from the gas, alerting the men to the danger. Those birds he raised were a lifesaver. Sometimes Grandpa would say to me, "Judy will save your life from the cruel world." When I was a little girl, our family celebrated two Christmases. My father's side of the family celebrated December 2