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From Riches to Rags​—And Happiness

Money. Drugs. Sex. These things have enticed many young people into a let-me-live-for-today way of life. But do such pursuits really bring happiness? Read the true-life account of one woman who learned the hard way​—from personal experience. It shows how biblical principles can be a powerful force in changing one’s personality for the better.

IN 1948, when I was just three days old, I was adopted into an upper-middle-class family. We were a family of five​—my adoptive parents, their two natural daughters, and me. There I enjoyed a contented, secure life. By worldly standards we had it all. Most of my schooling was in the public school system, although for two years I did attend a Catholic boarding school.

Our parents provided us with everything we wanted​—ballet lessons, tennis, horseback riding. We had our own swimming pool, and I got involved in competitive swimming and water ballet. I really didn’t realize that the lives of others were much different from ours until I was in my teenage years and near graduation from high school. By then the civil-rights marches of the 1960’s made me conscious of prejudice and the fact that not everyone was poor because of laziness.

I began to question the things I had been taught in Catholic school. I had been very devout in my worship. In fact, for several years I had wanted to become a nun. But my questions went unanswered. I began to doubt my faith.

I saw that only a minority of people were able to live as I did, and I thought this was most unfair. My parents showed little sympathy for poorer people. They felt, ‘If poor people would just work hard and apply themselves, they could have what we have.’ I felt as if I didn’t belong; I became very lonely.

With such attitudes surrounding me, I turned to other things​—mainly drinking and boys. I fantasized about being married to a rock singer, and so I associated only with boys in rock groups. I retreated from family activities and became a problem child. By the time I was 16 years old, I was headstrong and uncontrollable, causing much misery at home. At night, I went out drinking and sleeping with boys and came to have a terrible reputation at school. My parents were fed up, and after I graduated in June of 1966, they rented a room for me in San Francisco and put me out of the house.

I met a boy named Patrick. I fell in love with him and we decided to go to New York, where he was from. I stayed with him and his family for several months. He soon tired of me and introduced me to Parrish, a girl he had met in Greenwich Village. I moved in with her.

She had a little money when I met her, but that soon ran out, and we were out on the street. Now we learned the ways of the street. If we couldn’t find someone with whom we could spend the night, we took drugs and stayed up all night, begging for money on street corners or at subway stations. At times I got a job as a bar girl soliciting drinks from men to boost sales, being paid by the bar to do this. I also worked as a pornographic model and as a prostitute. Sometimes we rummaged for food in the garbage cans outside restaurants. Or we went into restaurants and ate the leftovers on someone else’s plate. Then we stole the tip so we could buy some coffee.

At times all we had to wear were the clothes on our back. I had literally gone from riches to rags. New clothes sometimes came from sugar daddies, who would buy us clothes in exchange for certain favors. Once, I was so desperate for a coat that I walked into a large department store, put on a nice winter coat, and walked out​—without paying, of course!

One of the music groups there in the Village befriended us, and it was through them that I was introduced to marijuana. Over the next five years, I took other drugs​—LSD (literally hundreds of times), THC, amphetamines, heroin, cocaine, opium, hashish, and many others. Later I worked for a large dope ring, flying between San Francisco and New York with suitcases full of marijuana.

After several months in New York, Parrish and I found a ride to Hollywood. There I met up with Carol, a girl I had gone to boarding school with. She let Parrish and me move in with her.

At this time we were taking “reds,” which are barbiturates (downers). I was up to six or seven pills a day. Many nights we got high on drugs, then went up on Sunset Strip to listen to the music blasting out of the clubs. One night when Carol and I did this, two men came up and offered us some marijuana, which we took. They got us into their car, and I ended up being beaten and raped.

Carol managed to get away and called the police. The police arrived quickly enough to catch the man who assaulted me. They ran a check on me and found out that I was wanted for a hitchhiking ticket I hadn’t paid, so they arrested me. He was released. I went to jail.

A year later, in May of 1968, I took a trip to New York and got back together with Patrick. Soon I became pregnant with Patrick’s baby. He wanted nothing to do with me or the baby, so I returned to San Francisco. I was unmarried and alone, and was about to become a mother. I was so scared that I began contemplating suicide.

When I was about eight months along, Patrick called and said he wanted to come back. He needed $450.00, and I gave it to him. I was ready to do anything to get him back! He also needed several letters from me for his draft board. I wrote the letters, stating that Patrick was supporting me. I guess my letters did the trick, that is, they got Patrick out of the draft. But after that I never heard from him again. A couple of weeks later, on February 18, 1969, I gave birth to a baby girl.

At this point I realized there had to be more to life than the world I knew. I had had a taste of both worlds​—rags and riches—​but still I wasn’t happy. I began searching elsewhere for answers.

Still searching for answers, in December of 1970 I joined a Jesus movement called The Way. I was living out of wedlock with a young man named Steve, but no one in the movement seemed to think anything of it. It was about this time that I came in contact with one of Jehovah’s Witnesses. I was on Market Street in San Francisco when a Witness approached me. He asked if I was a Christian. “Yes!” I answered. I was so excited to be able to talk about the Bible with someone.

‘Why is there so much trouble in the world?’ I asked him. He showed me Matthew 24:3-13, and he explained that present world conditions are part of a “sign” indicating that we are living in the time of the end. Then he went on to tell me how God’s Kingdom would soon bring peace and security to mankind and eliminate death, old age, and sickness. (Revelation 21:3, 4) What a beautiful future he outlined! He made an appointment to start a Bible study with me that night at seven.

When I got home, I immediately told Steve all the exciting things I had just learned. But he didn’t share my excitement. In fact, he said that the Witnesses were Antichrist and they preyed on new Christians. He told me I shouldn’t talk to them. I trusted Steve, so I made sure I wasn’t there when the Witness called.

A few weeks later I became pregnant with Steve’s baby. He didn’t want the baby and moved out. So here I was again, unmarried, alone, and pregnant. I didn’t want to go through with another pregnancy, so when I was about four months along, I checked into a local hospital to have an abortion. It was painful both physically and emotionally. They induced labor, and after the baby came out, they left it in a jar in front of me the rest of the night. It was a boy. What had I done? I had no right to deny my son the right to live. That thought haunts me to this day.

A few months later, in August of 1971, I ran into a girl I had lived with in a commune in San Francisco. She had become a Witness. We talked and talked. She introduced me to a Witness woman, who offered to study the Bible with me. This time I wasted no time in starting to study the Bible with this dear woman, who became like a mother to me. She and her husband taught me not only the Bible but also personal hygiene, child care, housekeeping, shopping, and other practical things. They bought me some clothes and a warm winter coat.

I knew I had changes to make. Even before the first study, I stopped smoking (I had been up to three packs a day) and gave up all drugs. I had also resolved in my heart to follow Jehovah’s law regarding sexual morality. I progressed to the point where, on June 17, 1972, I symbolized my dedication to Jehovah God by getting baptized.​—1 Corinthians 6:9-11.

Now, some 13 years later, I am still faithfully serving my Creator. My daughter, who is 16 years old now, was baptized on March 12, 1983. In October of 1975 I married a man, one of Jehovah’s Witnesses, who is a fine family head, and a loving husband and father to our three children. And since February 1, 1982, I have had the joy of serving in the ministry as a regular pioneer, devoting 90 hours each month to that work.

Finally I’ve found happiness!​—Contributed.

[Blurb on page 25]

By the time I was in high school, I was headstrong and uncontrollable, causing much misery at home

[Blurb on page 26]

I had no right to deny my son the right to live. That thought haunts me to this day

[Blurb on page 27]

Since 1982 I have had the joy of devoting at least 90 hours each month to teaching the Bible to others