I was born at seven months. My mom gave birth on her own and cut my umbilical cord herself in a wattle and daub house. My name was supposed to be either Gorete or Margarete. But when I was getting baptized, my godmother said: “We should call her Francisca, because that is the name of her granny.” My mom also told me that when I was born I almost died, and she offered me to Saint Francis of Assisi, my patron. So I became Xica. I tell everyone: “It is Xica da Silva, with an ‘X’.”