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My great grandmother was a midwife

Yesterday I visited my grandmother, and told me something about my family history I know: his grandmother, that is, my great grandmother was a midwife.

Ema was called, was born in Bethlehem, Palestine (my paternal family is of Palestinian origin). At age 13, while playing outside her home with her friends, her mother called her, bathed her and put her best dress, and married a man 10 years older who hardly knew.

Bored of war and violence in the Middle East, they came by boat to Chile, with 4 children they had been in Palestine, one of whom was the father of my grandmother, my great-grandfather. They slept on the deck of the ship, and came to Chile because he had a distant aunt in Catemu near Los Andes, where they could receive. After a few years, Amy had had 4 more children and had separated from her husband, who had put together a new family. Ema

not speak English well, but he knew how to fix the knowledge acquired from his mother in Palestine was a midwife. Received at home to women about to give birth, and that money away or could not get to a hospital. Gave them food, shelter, helped them give birth and after delivery had them 3 days at home, to make sure everything was okay. My grandmother told me that she was never killed a woman or a child, and never had to address any complications.

and does not charge. Emma believed that because it is God who gives life, she could not charge you for the birth of the child came into the world by divine will, so did all his work for free. But people gratefully sent him gift lambs, chickens, sacks of flour and other gifts, along with the help of the family of her former husband and the work of the older children, the family allowed him to succeed.

My grandmother told me that on Sundays many women who had given birth at home, they brought their children to Ema for they crossed themselves and pray the Lord's Prayer in Arabic, scattering salt on the head, to frighten the devil.

old Emma died, almost 80 years, rosy-cheeked and robust silhouette. My grandmother told me that when he died, had to tear down a wall of the cemetery Catemu because the number of people who could not be met through the narrow gate of the cemetery. Ema

, I loved to be my great grandmother.