Last Summer' a dear friend gave me a ceramic heart that said "People walk through our lives but only true friends leave footprints on our hearts". What a lovely present to receive.
When I woke up this morning, and saw all the frost, and felt how cold it was outside, it took me back to when I was about 7 (I do sound like an old Granny today).
A young girl called Juliet had come to stay with us. Such is the acceptance of children, I didn't ever question why, I really, really liked her, and that was enough. She shared my bedroom and we had a great time together.We didn't have central heating and it was very difficult to leave a nice warm bed to get dressed. Juliet made it into a game, we would huddle round the small electric heater, giggling away, warming ourselves up with our laughter.
Such was the power of her kind personality, that I was persuaded to go and stay on a farm with her, near Hastings. Wimpy me that wouldn't ever leave my Mum and was painfully shy!.It belonged to her aunt. It was magical there for me. It was a proper" Fisher Price "type of farm. Lots of different animals and a cockerel waking us up at dawn.
One day, I was very upset to hear Juliet crying in the bathroom. Soon after a young man called David came to claim her. She was very happy then.Years later I asked my Mum about her. As usual, she never did other people's business, but mumbled something about a baby and a small village in Cornwall.
Sorting through my parents' letters last Summer, I found one from her. It said all sorts of nice things about me. I hope things worked out for her. She would have been a great Mum. She left footprints on my heart.
I am aware that this post is of little interest to anyone but my close family. But on frosty mornings I often think of Juliet and our race to get dressed.
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