Fortunate Daughter

Rosie's sins were never difficult to recall; they lined themselves up like baby ducks in her mind's eye. Her confession to Father Hart one day in 1974 went like this: I didn't finish all my chores. I stole the Halloween candy my mom hid in the pantry. And I let my Daddy touch my private places. <p/>Though it begins as an all-too-common story of childhood sexual abuse <i>Fortunate Daughter</i> gradually becomes a rare story of how one person heals from that early trauma. In this intimate first-person narrative Rosie McMahan offers the reader a portrait of misery abuse and hurt followed by the difficult and painful task of healing--a journey that in the end reveals the complicated and nuanced venture of true reconciliation and the freedom that comes along with it.