Cry quietly

In Marnie’s family, it was a rare treat to go to a movie in a theatre. There was only one theatre in Taber, The Tower Theatre, owned by the Miller family. It only played old movies.

Marnie was four or five years old when she went to a movie for the first time. It was a very old, black and white movie musical called “Maytime,” starring Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy. Marnie’s mother really liked to hear those two sing!

Marnie was so excited as she hopped out of the car and ran to the theatre with her sisters and brother. Mom and Dad came, too, and got in line at the ticket window.

“Two adults and four children,” Dad said.

The lady behind the window was Mrs. Miller! 

“Hi, Mrs. Miller!” Marnie shouted. Mrs. Miller smiled as she handed the long strip of tickets to Daddy.

Everyone went inside, handing their tickets to the ticket man. It was Mr. Miller!

“Hi, Mr. Miller!” Marnie was so excited to see these good friends in this funny place. Usually she just saw them at church!

Then Dad stopped to get popcorn , but not for Marnie or Collette. They didn’t like popcorn. Collette got a chocolate bar, but Marnie didn’t like chocolate bars, either. So she got a box of Smarties.

The theatre was dark, with only faint lights to mark the aisle.  Marnie was a bit afraid of the dark, so she hung tight to Arwen’s hand.

“Look, Marnie! A love seat!” said Arwen, pointing to a seat wide enough for two, “Can I sit there with Marnie, Dad?”

Dad said they could, so first Collette went into the row, sitting in a single seat. Then Arwen and Marnie in the love seat on the aisle. Behind them, Brian sat behind Collette, and then Mom , with Dad on the aisle directly behind Marnie.

The movie had lovely music, and Marnie soon got caught up in the story. It was a sad story, a really sad story.  Marnie started to cry.  The movie got sadder and sadder. The more sad it got, the more Marnie cried.

Marnie felt a poke on her shoulder. She turned her tear-stained face to see Dad looking at her with a big frown on his face, “Marnie, stop crying!” he said.

Marnie was shocked. Stop crying! She was so sad! It was not even possible to stop crying!

Then, something else sad happened on the screen, and Marnie’s sobs came out more and more; sobs and then gasps for breath. 

Dad poked her again. He looked even more angry this time. “Marnie, “he hissed. “Stop crying! Stop crying right now, or I am going to take you out and give you something to cry about!”

Marnie could not believe her ears! She stopped crying and started wailing. Dad was planning to spank her, and she had not even done anything wrong! All she was doing was crying because the movie was so sad.

As Marnie’s wails got louder and louder, Dad got more and more angry. He stood up, took Marnie’s hand and dragged her screaming from the theatre.

But outside, in the lobby, he didn’t spank her. He said, “Marnie, why are you crying like that?”

“Daddy, the movie is so sad!” Marnie cried, “The poor lady…I am so sad! I tried to stop crying, but it is too sad, and I can’t stop crying!”

“Marnie, it is okay to feel sad, and it is okay to cry when you are sad,” Daddy said. “But can’t you cry quietly? You can have as many tears as you want to have, but you need to stop sobbing out loud. It is disturbing the people in the theatre. They want to hear the movie, but all they can hear is your crying.”

What an idea! Marnie did not know that you could cry quietly. Maybe she could do it, if she tried.

Daddy told her to get a drink of water and go to the bathroom, and walk around in the lobby a little bit until she felt more calm.  And then she could go back inside, but she would have to cry quietly.

And so that is exactly what Marnie did. She tried to cry as quietly as possible. Even though a few sobs still escaped, mostly she was quiet. At least quiet enough that Daddy didn’t have to give her something to cry about after all!

The New Baby

It was a cold Thursday morning in December, and Opal knew that today was the day. A new baby was coming to the Conway home today, even though it was a few weeks early. Too bad that Nick was not home. He had left in the wee hours of the morning to drive to the Cardston temple with some friends.

Opal counted off on her fingers the things she needed to do: first, get Brian ready for school and out to meet the bus at the top of the driveway; second, get Collette and Arwen up and dressed; third, pack suitcases for the kids and a hospital bag for herself. Then load the kids in the car and drive the ten miles to Grandma and Grandpa Conway’s house to drop off the girls, before driving herself to the hospital in Taber.

Opal knew she had to do all these things herself, because the Conways lived on a farm in the middle of nowhere. They did not have any close neighbors, and there was no phone to call them with, anyway.

Much later in the day, Opal was holding the new baby when Nick burst through the door of her hospital room. “Opal…my dad left a message at Ray Benson’s house! I am so sorry I wasn’t home!”

But Opal just smiled and held out the swaddled baby. “It’s a girl,” she said. 

“That’s okay! I like girls!” Nick said as he took the baby. “She’s a pretty one!”

“I hope Brian isn’t too disappointed,” Opal mused. “He was really hoping for a brother.”

Opal missed her older children. New mothers always stayed in the hospital for a week, and there was a strict “no children” policy.  But Nick brought Opal pictures they had drawn, and reported that all was well. The kids were happy. Grandma Conway was spoiling them, and Grandpa Conway was having fun playing with his grandchildren.

Finally, it was time to go home! Opal’s doctor signed the discharge papers. Nick drove the car to the hospital door to help Opal and new baby Marnie Jane into the car, and then headed to Dogtown to his parent’s little red house to pick up Brian, Collette and Arwen.

As they pulled into the yard, Brian hurtled out the front door.  

“Oh, look!” said Opal. “He is so excited to see us!”

But Brian didn't run to the door of the car--he ran to the front and started pushing. "Go back!" he shouted, "Go back! Take her back! I already have two sisters, I don't need another one! Take her back!"

"Hmm..." said Nick, "I guess that Brian might be just a little bit disappointed about this new little sister!"

March 1957: Marnie was just a twinkle in her dad's eye. L-R: Opal (Pearl), Brian (Bruce), Grandma, Collette (Colleen), Arwen (Arlene), Nick (Arnold).

"Maybe if I don't look at her, she will disappear." Christmas Day, 1957.

"She's okay...when she's asleep!"

Marnie's First Report

Marnie was still five years old when she started school. There was no kindergarten class for her; she went straight to Grade One. Her teacher was Mrs. Ellensburg. Mrs. Ellensburg was old. She had gray hair and wore glasses. She could sometimes be mean, but most of the time was nice.

Marnie had only been in Grade One for a month or two when a hepatitis epidemic swept through Southern Alberta. This kind of hepatitis was called “yellow jaundice” because people who had it looked very yellow.  Marnie and her older brother Brian both got yellow jaundice. So they had to stay home from school for a very long time. They could not go back to school until the health department said they could. 

Marnie did not mind staying home because she could lay in bed or on the couch and read lots of books! She loved to read. And it was winter time, so staying home when it was cold outside seemed like a good idea to her. Her teacher sent lots of homework home with her sister Arwen, though, so Marnie did not fall behind in school.

One day, Marnie was pronounced well, and so back to school she went. She felt very weird, because she had missed a lot of school. It felt almost like starting over again on the first day of school.

 

Mrs. Ellensburg announced that all the children would be writing a report. The report was about kangaroos.  She handed out papers that had a picture of a kangaroo at the top, and a whole bunch of blank lines at the bottom. Marnie watched as all the children around her began printing their words carefully on the lines. But Marnie did not know what to do! She had never written a report before! She had tears in her eyes, but she did not cry out loud.

When it was time for recess, Mrs. Ellensburg collected all the papers.  When she got to Marnie, she saw that Marnie’s paper was blank, except for her name at the top of the page.

“Marnie, why have you not written your report?” Mrs. Ellensburg asked.

“I don’t know how,” Marnie whispered.

“Stay inside, then, and I will help you,” said Mrs. Ellensburg.

All the children went to the cloak room and bustled around putting on hats and coats and mittens and boots. Marnie waited at her desk. Finally, Mrs. Ellensburg came over.

“Marnie, when you write a report, you write what you know about something. I think that you probably know things about kangaroos. What do you know about them?” she asked.

“Well, they are mammals. And they live in Australia,” said Marnie.

“There, you have ideas for two sentences,” said Mrs. Ellensburg.  “Start the first sentence with ‘Kangaroos’ and make sure you write in complete sentences.”

Marnie wrote: Kangaroos are mammals. They live in Australia.

“What else do you know?” prompted Mrs. Ellensburg.

“Their babies live in their pouches,” said Marnie, “because they are so small.”

“Go ahead and write that down,” said Mrs. Ellensburg.

Marnie wrote: A kangaroo mother carries her baby in a pouch. Kangaroo babies are very small.

“Very good, Marnie!” said Mrs. Ellensburg. “You are almost finished your report! What do you think about kangaroos?”

“I like them,” Marnie smiled.

Mrs. Ellengsburg smiled, too. She said, “There, you see! You DID know how to write a report. You just write what you know about something. When you have finished, color the picture, and put the report on my desk,”

Marnie wrote: I like kangaroos.  Then she picked up her brown crayon and started to color.

Marnie was so happy as she looked at her finished paper. First, the picture, with coloring staying neatly in the lines. Then her report: Kangaroos are mammals. They live in Australia. A kangaroo mother carries her baby in a pouch. Kangaroo babies are very small. I like kangaroos.

Marnie skipped to the front of the room and proudly and carefully placed her first report on Mrs. Ellensburg’s desk.

Baby Dolls

Becky was the sweetest, cutest most cuddly baby doll ever! How Marnie wished that Becky were her own—but Becky was Collette’s. Sometimes Collette would let Marnie play with Becky. Becky felt almost like a real baby!  She didn’t have any hair, not really, just some wisps of plastic at the front and back of her head.  But real babies often don’t have hair, either, so the baldness just made Becky better.

When fall came, and the children started talking about what they wanted for Christmas, Marnie said, “I want a doll just like Becky!”

Brian, Marnie’s older brother, and Collette, who was older, too, told Arwen and Marnie that if they really wanted Santa to bring them what they wanted for Christmas, they needed to wish to Santa. To do this, the children must stand on the bed in the north bedroom, looking out of the north window towards the North Pole where Santa Claus lives, and then just tell him what was wished for.

When the children wished to Santa, Marnie would plead, “Please, please, please, PLEASE, I want a doll just like Becky! Please, Santa, please, just a doll like Becky, okay, please?”

Finally, it was Christmas morning. Marnie must have wished to Santa for a doll just like Becky 90 times, or maybe even 100 times!

Stockings, breakfast…it was taking so long! Marnie wanted to see what was under the tree!  Finally, Daddy let the children into the living room! And there, under the tree, was…

A baby doll just like Becky…almost. This doll didn’t have the bald-headed look of Becky! This doll had painted-on BROWN hair. All over its head! It looked like…a boy! A BOY! This doll was not like Becky! It was a boy doll! Marnie didn't want a boy doll!

And then Marnie spied another baby doll. This one had silky, golden hair. She didn’t look as much like a real baby, but she was so cute! Marnie ran and picked her up and cuddled her, and said, “Oh! You are soooo cute! I am going to call you Gaylie!”

“Mommy! Daddy! Look what Santa brought me!” shrilled Marnie, “Just what I wanted! A baby doll! I am going to call her Gaylie! She is sooooo cute!”

Mommy and Daddy looked at each other. They looked at Arwen, who was coming into the room much more slowly.  Arwen looked at Marnie holding the golden haired baby doll.  She looked at the baby doll with the painted-on brown hair. She may have looked a tiny bit sad for a moment...because she had been wishing to Santa for a doll with silky, golden curls and knew that baby doll in Marnie's arms was meant for her.

Then she picked up the brown-haired baby doll and said, “Just what I wanted! A boy doll! A boy doll is better! I don't even have a boy doll yet...but now I do! I am going to call you Timmy!”

Okay...I am not completely satisfied, but what do you think? The thing was, the golden haired baby doll was for Arwen, and the other baby doll, who looked exactly like Becky the bald baby doll, except for the painted on brown hair, was for Marnie.  I was a brat, and always impetuously grabbed the cutest thing (doll, kitten, dress...whatever) and then my sister would take what was left over and then make it BETTER than whatever I had through the shear beauty of her personality.  In this situation, she would have been wishing to Santa for the doll that I named Gaylie every bit as fervently as I wished to Santa for a baby doll just like Becky. But, when she could have cried and carried on because I had grabbed her present, she didn't. She let me keep it. Do I have a wonderful sister or what? Do you think the story communicates that well enough? Will Rachel understand that?

The Fictional Conway Family

My granddaughter Rachel surprised me this week by sending me two emails. They were darling, all about her loose tooth that she likes to wiggle. When I wrote back to her about her tooth, she wrote back to me and said, "Thangs."   I loved that!

I was very happy to hear from Rachel. I have struggled with maintaining a relationship with my grandchildren--they don't seem particularly interested in me, and I understand that, because I am not particularly interesting. But I would like to have better relationships with them.

I did not learn much about being a grandparent from my own grandparents...one of them (mom's mother) died about fifteen years before I was born. The next one to leave the planet (dad's father) died five years before I was born. My Grandpa Hancock was old and scary; I honestly did not like him very much. He was all skin and bones, walked with a walker, and dribbled his shredded wheat when he ate.  He couldn't help it...he was over ninety years old. But to me, he was just scary. When he died just before I turned six, I was actually rather relieved that I would not be compelled to visit him anymore. So the only grandparent I spent much time with was my dad's mom, Ida Muhlestein Conrad.  She was a gracious, lovely woman. She said amusing things, like:"I was tickled pink!" when happy, and "Oh, murder!" when she was upset.

Most of the children in my parent's nuclear family did my parents the disservice of living far away from them, thereby making the grandparent/grandchild relationship a challenge.  I admired my mother's attempts to stay in touch with cards and personal notes to the children.

When I was young, I wanted so badly to have someone to write letters to. I thought that sending and receiving mail was the coolest thing ever.  Since my only living grandma lived nearby, so I talked to her often, my mom encouraged me to write letters to my aunt Ila (who was developmentally delayed) and so while she enjoyed my letters (or at least I hope she did), her own letters back to me were written by her social workers, so lacked that personal touch.

And here was Rachel reaching out to me, writing to me--initiating the contact. How cool is that?

So, I decided to write her stories based on my own young life.  And then, I decided to save them here, where the rest of my writing can be found.After reading the story I emailed to Rachel, Nancy wrote to me to ask if Marnie, Arwen and Collette might be some people I used to know, and of course they are. In future stories, they will be joined by big brother Brian, and their parents Nick and Opal Conway.  (Get the Nick and Opal? My dad's nickname was Nixie or Nix, and Opal/Pearl: both are gemstones!)

And yes, we did receive small gifts every New Year's Day in our shoes that we left beside the Christmas tree.  I do not know how I did not establish that tradition with my own children, because I really liked it.  But somehow, I did not.

I have been singing that "Little New Year" song in my head for several weeks leading up to the actual new year. I found the music for it in a Google Books scanned book, but it is not the tune that I remember.  I have been trying to get it right, so I can write it down.  Stay tuned, maybe I will add it once I am sure I have it right! (Tune/tuned ; right/write: I didn't even plan that!)

Here is the first story, "The Little New Year."

Marnie was too excited to sleep. Tomorrow was New Year’s Day! 

Before going to bed, Marnie and her big sisters Arwen and Collette carefully chose and set out one of their shoes under the Christmas tree. They knew that The Little New Year would come and fill their shoes with small treasures. There would be some candy, and maybe something pretty, like a necklace or a pair of barrettes. Maybe a little toy would be there, too.

Marnie and her sisters would dance around the living room, happily singing the New Year song:

“Oh, I am the little New Year, ho, ho!
Here I come tripping it over the snow.
Shaking my bells with a merry din -
So open your doors and let me in!”

As Marnie closed her eyes and tried to sleep, she imagined the Little New Year. It looked so cute…a little baby wearing a diaper, a shy smile on its face! It would giggle as it chased the old year out of the room! Marnie imagined what the old year looked like: an old man, with a long, long, white beard that dragged on the floor. The old year was a little bit reluctant to leave, but he was so very tired. The new year was full of energy, toddling around in excitement, like a baby who is just learning to walk.

Marnie giggled at the antics of the Little New Year in her imagination!  Arwen, beside her in the bed, poked her and said, “Shhh…be quiet and go to sleep, Marnie!” So Marnie did not giggle any more, but she smiled as she fell asleep dreaming about the Little New Year and what he would leave in her shoe!