What my terrible name means to me and the woman I'm named for. 100 words or less.
B. Evans Hudson
Stranger; that's what Barbara translates to. At the thoughtless age of eleven I decided to educate my grandmother.
"No dear," she said, "it means beautiful flower."
She was wrong, so I decided to argue with the woman who had carried the name far longer than I. Her tenacity was infuriating. At the end of my argumentative rope I produced the book that proved I was right. I stabbed at the word 'stranger' for emphasis. She glanced at it briefly.
"It must mean beautiful stranger," she said; and she left.
It took me two decades to realize she was right.