Pearl Grace Parker

Chapter Two

I watched my father give my mother one last hug. Then he looks down at me one last time. I was abnormally short and small for my age but that was caused by being born early. He kneels down and gently touches my face as he kisses my forehead. He pulls back and says, "I'll bring you a new dress, my little Pearl." I smile and quickly hug him before he stands up. I feel his arms wrap around my body and I nuzzle my face into his neck. He pulls back and says, "I love you!" as he climbs into the truck. I call back after him, "I love you too, father!"

It's been six months since my father was drafted into the war. My mother must have gotten pregnant before they left since she is already six months pregnant. Every time I asked her about her pregnancy. She would clam up and ask me not to talk about it. I didn't understand why I was ashamed of being pregnant with another sibling. Every week we would get a letter from my father. He would tell us about his day and ask about how we were doing. My mother is trying to get me to start writing and reading early so she would let me try to read his letters. I was so proud when I read a word right. My mother was getting bigger and bigger with the months. She looked like she was getting ready to explode. A few days later, my mother had a little girl named Mae. She was so cute. I was so excited to have a little sister. My mother almost looked devastated when she looked at the child. Almost like some horrifying secret came with the child.

It has been two years into the war. Little Mae has already gotten so big. Everyone keeps whispering rumors when they see Mae. I don't understand it. It does seem that it is getting hard around here though. I look around and see the businesses being full with women working. That's strange. I've never really seen aristocratic people working.

One year later, we keep getting fewer and fewer letters from father. I am now six years old. I have been going to boarding school and I have met many of my mother's friend's children. One of my friend's named Mary Margret Olson. She and I always play on the swings together and the best part is that her mother is best friends with mine. We get to play and study together constantly.

One day my mother came upstairs into my room and started cheering with joy. She screamed at Mary and I, "Your father is coming home!" I was so excited. I got up and started dancing with Mary and my mother. We were laughing and tears were falling. The war was finally over. Henry came into the room and said, "Father is coming home?" My mother ran over to him and said while hugging him, "Yes!"