They named me Allison Conroy LeBeaux at birth; my mother and father, being of serious and somewhat melancholy spirit and possessing no sense of humor whatever, called me ‘Allie’ as a baby and continued the practice throughout their lives. Alice, or Allison, were my preferences, but my preferences didn’t count for much. I’m sure that I spent much of my childhood railing against my name…at least the name by which my parents chose to call me.
My railing had no effect on my parents or on my maternal Grandmother who was, in many ways, my childhood’s emotional and spiritual salvation. My Grandmother was old school; a woman with roots deep in the swamps and bayous. While my parents were spending their lives at work and at the local church drowned in perpetual fund-raising and mission activities, my Grandmother took care of me, their neglected child, and secretly taught me the ways of the swamp women…none of which involved church socials or fundraising and the only missions ever mentioned were the immediate tasks at hand.
One such task she undertook was to teach me about my name.
“What’s in a name, Allison?” she would say.
I would answer, “A name is just a name!”
She would respond, “No, Allison, a name is a number…your number…a number as unique as you are.”
“How can a name be a number?”
“Not just a number…many numbers…the numbers of your life.”
And then she would explain to me how I did not receive my name by accident. According to her, I was fated from before conception to receive the name Allison Conroy LaBeaux and that the numbers of the letters of my name and the letters and numbers of birth date determined my course in life. Repeatedly, from an age so young I could barely understand her, she told me I would be proud and independent, and determined to always be concerned about others, even to thinking of new ways to be of service. She would say the numbers foretold that I would be a business woman, a queen of a financial enterprises always working despite a beautiful home and a committed family with many artistic and philanthropic activities.
When she told me these things, I would laugh with delight and move on to my next activity. By the time I was in college, I owned my own business. By the time I graduated, my business had expanded to multiple cities. I was already a major player in the Chamber of Commerce in several areas, and a major contributor to charities. My success grew, but I always looked for ways to give back. Later, looking back over my life, I realized that my Grandmother had predicted it all from the numbers in my name.
My Grandmother called me Allison until the day she died, locking the independence of the name Allison, a seven vibration, into my destiny of business success as surely as mortar locks brick into place. Had my parent’s use of Allie prevailed the independent spirit of Allison may well have been replaced with the three vibration of the name Allie and resulted in complacency and locked self-centeredness instead of success and philanthropy. I am truly thankful my Grandmother refused to call me Allie instead of Allison. I believe it to be the difference in a destiny of success and a destiny of dissipation.
Copyright 2015 © by Clabe R. Polk, Powder Springs, Georgia. All rights reserved. No document posted here may be copied in part or in whole by any means without written permission of the author.
Copyright 2014 ©
by Clabe Polk
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