juice.
Mr. Frank dragged us all over the building. Ida wanted to see the babies and Ian wanted to see blood. Mr. Frank had me recite the sea poem to several people we met along the way (the one you taught me: “I must go down to the sea again,” and so on and so forth). He had Ian walk on his hands (right in the hallway!) and Ida pirouette. He clapped every time. He must not get much in the way of entertainment. Finally he took us home. Mama had finished a nap and made us lunch and we had to report all the details. I’ll tell you this. I am not going to be a nurse when I grow up.
Isabelle
June 23, 1944
Dear Papa,
It’s 95 degrees. Mama’s wilting. I bring her cold water while she sits under the oak tree in the backyard. It is a big yard and lined with thick bushes so we can’t see the neighbors. While Mama rests, I take Ian and Ida on adventures. The bushes are hollow in the middle. We crawl in and look at the neighbors’ yards. We take a snack wrapped up in a hanky. We have explored the whole yard and at night Mama says she is proud of me for helping her keep things calm. I don’t think she’ll send me away again. I also make her cold cloths to put on her forehead and I read to her in the late afternoon, when it is the hottest. Mr. Frank frets over Mama. She lost a husband and a house and has all of us to be concerned with, I told him; she’s bound to be tired.
Good night, Papa!
Isabelle Anderson
P. S. Here is my new prayer. I am going to teach it to Ida and Ian when Mama’s not up to putting them to bed.
Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
Take me to Papa for heaven’s sake.
June 26, 1944
Dear Papa,
Someone moved into 1234 Palace! I heard Mr. Frank and Mama talking about it. I’m going there today to see for myself.
Isabelle
June 26, later
It is a family. Only a mother, though, just like us. The father was killed in the war and they all moved here from Chicago to be closer to their grandma and grandpa. They are Catholic and have a statue of the Blessed Virgin in the front garden. There are five kids just like us. But none of them as old as the twins. That mother has her basket full! I wonder if she gets as tired as Mama does.
Inez and Ian and Ida and me went there today while Mama rested. We pulled Ida in the wagon. First we went and picked up Jimmy. Mrs. Jordahl hugged us and fed us lunch even though we’d already eaten. We filled her in on everything happening on River Boulevard. I told her to be happy on Palace even though the houses are smaller here. Jimmy would not like River Boulevard. The sidewalks are so far down the lawn from the houses. She gave us a bunch of rhubarb from her garden to bring down to 1234. The mother was putting laundry on the line and two of the girls were hanging upside down by their knees from the laundry poles.
“Why didn’t we ever try that when we lived here?” I said, and they jumped down and let us try. It brought my oatmeal to my throat and my dress to my waist so now I know. The kids were scared of Jimmy. We showed them how he can hopscotch. I said the main thing is not to laugh at him. Just pretend he is large for his age.
They said we could go in the house and look around but we didn’t. There were boxes all over and none of the stuff coming out of them looked like our stuff. There’s a gold star in the window for their father.
“Come over again,” they said, and maybe we will.
Jimmy cried when we left Palace.
So there you go.
Isabelle Anderson
June 30, 1944
Dear Papa,
You will never guess who’s here! Give up? Well, we were relaxing ourselves in the living room with the shades pulled this afternoon, as it is hot hot hot. Then comes the doorbell. “Who could that be?” says Mama, stretching her legs out in front of her, then curling them back up on her chair. The bell rings again. “Isabelle, would you get it?” I race through the hall to the front door. The lady standing there
Mr. Frank dragged us all over the building. Ida wanted to see the babies and Ian wanted to see blood. Mr. Frank had me recite the sea poem to several people we met along the way (the one you taught me: “I must go down to the sea again,” and so on and so forth). He had Ian walk on his hands (right in the hallway!) and Ida pirouette. He clapped every time. He must not get much in the way of entertainment. Finally he took us home. Mama had finished a nap and made us lunch and we had to report all the details. I’ll tell you this. I am not going to be a nurse when I grow up.
Isabelle
June 23, 1944
Dear Papa,
It’s 95 degrees. Mama’s wilting. I bring her cold water while she sits under the oak tree in the backyard. It is a big yard and lined with thick bushes so we can’t see the neighbors. While Mama rests, I take Ian and Ida on adventures. The bushes are hollow in the middle. We crawl in and look at the neighbors’ yards. We take a snack wrapped up in a hanky. We have explored the whole yard and at night Mama says she is proud of me for helping her keep things calm. I don’t think she’ll send me away again. I also make her cold cloths to put on her forehead and I read to her in the late afternoon, when it is the hottest. Mr. Frank frets over Mama. She lost a husband and a house and has all of us to be concerned with, I told him; she’s bound to be tired.
Good night, Papa!
Isabelle Anderson
P. S. Here is my new prayer. I am going to teach it to Ida and Ian when Mama’s not up to putting them to bed.
Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
Take me to Papa for heaven’s sake.
June 26, 1944
Dear Papa,
Someone moved into 1234 Palace! I heard Mr. Frank and Mama talking about it. I’m going there today to see for myself.
Isabelle
June 26, later
It is a family. Only a mother, though, just like us. The father was killed in the war and they all moved here from Chicago to be closer to their grandma and grandpa. They are Catholic and have a statue of the Blessed Virgin in the front garden. There are five kids just like us. But none of them as old as the twins. That mother has her basket full! I wonder if she gets as tired as Mama does.
Inez and Ian and Ida and me went there today while Mama rested. We pulled Ida in the wagon. First we went and picked up Jimmy. Mrs. Jordahl hugged us and fed us lunch even though we’d already eaten. We filled her in on everything happening on River Boulevard. I told her to be happy on Palace even though the houses are smaller here. Jimmy would not like River Boulevard. The sidewalks are so far down the lawn from the houses. She gave us a bunch of rhubarb from her garden to bring down to 1234. The mother was putting laundry on the line and two of the girls were hanging upside down by their knees from the laundry poles.
“Why didn’t we ever try that when we lived here?” I said, and they jumped down and let us try. It brought my oatmeal to my throat and my dress to my waist so now I know. The kids were scared of Jimmy. We showed them how he can hopscotch. I said the main thing is not to laugh at him. Just pretend he is large for his age.
They said we could go in the house and look around but we didn’t. There were boxes all over and none of the stuff coming out of them looked like our stuff. There’s a gold star in the window for their father.
“Come over again,” they said, and maybe we will.
Jimmy cried when we left Palace.
So there you go.
Isabelle Anderson
June 30, 1944
Dear Papa,
You will never guess who’s here! Give up? Well, we were relaxing ourselves in the living room with the shades pulled this afternoon, as it is hot hot hot. Then comes the doorbell. “Who could that be?” says Mama, stretching her legs out in front of her, then curling them back up on her chair. The bell rings again. “Isabelle, would you get it?” I race through the hall to the front door. The lady standing there
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