About the Author

My name is Evelyn B. Hill. I was born in Enfield, NC, at the age of three years old. My first memories are of doing things with my sisters and brothers; I am one of eleven children. My parents were poor and worked very hard to give us the best life they could.

In the year of 1941, the army drafted my father, leaving behind my mother and five children. Mother started working in a relative's grocery store to help get things we needed. The first time I remember wanting to write was when I went to kindergarten; my teacher was talking to the class, and I remember using my homework paper to scribble what at that time I called writing.

When I was 12 years old, I wrote a little play that my sisters and brothers put on outside in our yard for mother. She was impressed; daddy did not have time for such things. Mother did not have much education; they married at a very young age. There was not time for going to school and being a wife and mother.

My parents were farmers, and I never thought that we were poor. We had everything we wanted to eat; we grew vegetables, and we had fruit trees. Also, my father raised beef, pigs, and hens to lay eggs. We grew everything we needed except we bought flour for bread making. On Sunday, when we had mom's handmade chicken potpie, what a treat! I was too happy to realize I was poor. My parents gave us love enough to smother us.

Now that I am at this ripe-old age of seventy, I am a mother of six children, ten grandchildren, and nine great-grandchildren. I feel that I really want to put myself in gear and write what I have on my mind. I know that I can make some children and teenagers happy reading my books.

I graduated from high school in 1955 and married the same year. My last employment was working in a corporate setting that I enjoyed very much; I came into this position at the age of fifty years old. I retired in 2004 and was thinking about going back to school but changed my mind and decided to work with crafts. I worked at my own pace making the most beautiful fabric wreaths, which I taught myself to make one a day, and I was very happy. I still felt that something was missing in my life, and I wanted to do something more fulfilling.