The name He knows

The ordeal of my name began in 1959 — long before computers and auto-correct. My older sister was named Olive, after our mother, and the next, Pearl, for our grandmother. I was the seventh and last child born. Noticing the pattern — Olive and Pearl, fruit names tucked into honorifics — I would be the cherry on top: Cherryl (pronounced Cherry-L). Nonetheless, with a simple misspelling on the birth certificate, I became Cheryl. Mom still pronounced it with the hard "ch" sound, like chew.