When I was a little girl, there was not much to distinguish me from others.

I played like them and, though my mother had taught me to pray to the God of our fathers, I was well pleased to listen to the other children's tales of the goddess Isis.

Nay, I stole into her temple, bought spices, plundered our little garden for her, anointed her altar, and brought flowers for offerings.

I was taller and stronger than many of my companions, and was also the daughter of Amram, so they followed me and readily did what I suggested.

When I was eight years old, we moved hither from Zoan.