A Day in the Life Of...

Tale 1:

"In the Life of Lucia Laelia Valeria": A carpenter's daughter in Pompeii, Rome

Lucia...Lucia get up...

I ignored the voice, turning over on my side and continued dreaming of a more beautiful place...

"Lucia, I said get up!"

Suddenly, the small blanket that was wrapped around my body is torn off and I shiver slightly from the cold breeze that manages to reach beneath my nightclothes.

"Why?" I moan, before curling up into a ball to keep myself from freezing to death.

"It's your birthday and your betrothed is on his way to take you to the amphitheater, so get dressed." My mother responds curtly, before turning away from me. She then leaves me alone and I get up despite my body's protests.

First thing I do, is go to our washing room: there I use the toilet, the wash basin–along with a cream to make my skin smooth and flawless– and my mother's ivory comb that has been passed down from my grandmother. As I'm using it, I can feel my hair become straight and when I'm done, it hangs over my shoulders. Next, as per custom, I then find a couple of hair bands that my mother often uses and with deft fingers, I am then braiding my hair. When I braid it, I keep in mind the image I want—two braids, one on each side of my head and the rest hanging down my back—since we didn't have a mirror. It was a modest braid and when I'm finished, I put my mother's comb back and then go back to my room. Next, I rummage through my meager possessions and find a clean, long dress (stola) and a shawl (palla) made out of wool; then, once dressed and comfortable, I look around the room for my sandals. Where did I put them? I ask myself as I'm looking everywhere. I eventually find them; they were hidden under my small bed filled with straw. Lastly, after I make sure the straps of worn leather are secure around my ankles, I then make my way to our small living area where both my father and mother are waiting to eat their morning meal. "Lucia, why did you sleep in today? You know we get up at dawn." My father says, immediately getting out of his chair and coming over to me. He then puts his lips to mine and I blush slightly from the sudden gesture. I knew it was common for him to do, but still, I was a grown woman now! "Well, you didn't have any wine, so I guess I'll let it go this time...after all, it's your birthday." With a quick smile, my father then returned to his chair at our small wooden table. My mother—with wooden bowls in hand—gave my father his porridge first, then placed mine on the table, then lastly placed her own in front of herself after she too, sat down. Walking over to the table myself, I also sit down and in no time—after that one last bite of flavorless porridge—we all finish our meal in silence. We don't talk much, my father's job as a carpenter keeps him busy all day and my mother had a lot of cleaning to do as well. I was fortunate though, today was my birthday and I didn't have to do anything except celebrate...

Bringing myself back to the present, I was about to get up off the chair when a knock was heard on our door. My father, done with his meal and a little less grumpy now, went to it. When he opened it, there stood my betrothed: Silvanus Valentinus Aurelius, or just Silas for me. To him, I was known as Lucia Laelia Valeria, or just Lucy—only those with close, personal relationships were allowed to give each other nicknames—which in my case, being an engaged couple. As soon as I saw Silas, I ran forward to meet him in my excitement. "Good morning Silas!" I shout, before giving him a hug. My father, now frowning, glances away from us—he always disapproves of my behavior, but I didn't really care, it was my birthday and I was going to spend it with my future husband and best friend.

"Good morning Lucy." Silas says, blushing slightly as I'm hugging him. Even as he's blushing, I'm admiring his good looks: short, copper hair, brown eyes, a tan from working outside in the forum as a blacksmith and a dazzling smile that could stop a girl's heart. As I'm thinking this, I wondered how I became so lucky, compared to me: long, dark brown hair, brown eyes and a pale complexion; there were much prettier girls out there, but our fathers wanted us to stay together and that's how we ended up being betrothed. I wasn't complaining about our match-up and it seemed Silas liked the arrangement as well, so we never said anything bad about our betrothal—other people weren't as fortunate as we were. "Please, come in." My father says, before he gently pulls me off of Silas and back into the house. For a moment, Silas looks angry but the anger that I thought I saw, disappears as quickly as it had appeared.