I was seven years old, and I love to look into our album. It's much more fun than seeing a movie, for me. I looked through all the photos. My favorite photo of me is: I am sitting on a large gray stone, I wearing a red pretty dress, (the pictures are black and white), I have a pretty red bow in my hair,and my hair is curly. Anyway, at the back of the book, there was a pocket, inside was a locket. It was so pretty, it was shaped in a heart. I was so little, I took it and put it in a pink metal tin box--my memorable box..........................
.....................................I quickly ran to my cot and found my box, and grasped the key tightly in my hand. I raced to the trunk. As soon as I unlocked it, the wind became strong, and itself shut the windows, and the room became dark. Then, it was all magical as the wind opened up the trunk, I looked in. Inside was old things. Then, something caught my eye. Two photos: one of a picture of a small girl with two people, and a photo of me! The same photo when I was sitting on that gray stone, my red dress, and my hair is all curly!!! I looked at the other picture. This one had a young man and a young woman in it. The woman is holding a tiny baby, might even be a newborn. The background, is the house (we are staying in now)!! "I don't believe it!" I whispered. There was writing on the back,and I took a look at it. the first one was with the the man, the woman , and the baby:
Mr. Samuel Moore, his wife Rose Moore, and their daughter
Margaret Emily Moore
I looked at the picture with just me in it, on the back it said:
Margaret Emily Moore
Now I became angry! The people downstairs had a lot to explain about. I grabbed the 2 photos and the locket, and raced down the stairs. "What is my picture doing in your house? And maybe I found the truth about myself, is it true you're my parents? Is true my name's not Emily, but Margaret Emily? Why?" Mr.Moore stood up and said, "Take it easy now. Rose, give her some lemonade. Sit down, please. Let me tell you what happened. and your friends might as well know."
He began the long story, 13 years ago........................................................
"My name was indeed Samuel Moore. My wife Rose Moore gave birth to you, Margaret Emily. When you were a year old, we lost our house. We didn't have enough money to keep you. It was a burden to us, so we wanted to start over, but that was impossible,we knew. So, your brilliant mother--" He sounded like he was mocking her. " Took you to the Durham Orphanage, where she worked. She kept close to you as much as possible. The taxes were due, and we lost our second home. We were told to move to the poor house. Your mother stopped working for 4 months to help with the moving process. When she returned, you were gone!" "Gone?" asked Jane, whom I couldn't believe that they wanted to listen. "She was adopted into the Wicker family in London, England." "I remember Mother and Father returned from a trip in Durham, they told us that a poor family gave her to them." Patrick said aloud. "Yes, that was after we begged them to return our child, and it was a mistake. But they refused and the orphanage was on their side. So they agreed to one condition, in keeping you. To never return you or ever mention our names to you. Keep it a secret. We put all your things in that old trunk. We gave the key to them, so we would never open it, so we wouldn't cry. We also gave them a picture so you wouldn't be suspicious. I finally got a job, and we moved here."
"I've got only one more question," Jane said looking puzzled, "How come my mother and father's will said you were our uncle?" t was Rose who spoke up, "Everyone, to escape the war would go to America or another country. That's where your family went. The only people they knew left, were us. So they made the will after they adopted Emily. We disguised ourselves, and you were to call him Uncle Matthew, I guess she made an error, stating Uncle Sam."
Well, with the remaining part of my story is simple. After WWII, Mr. and Mrs. Wicker were found. Patrick and Jane returned to London, England. My Father received a job, and he soon became manager of a company. We had enough money to return to London, (the job was in London), and I have seen my "other family" more than once a week.
End of Hard Times
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