Jagodasladoled (
jagodasladoled) wrote2007-01-14 10:43 pm
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it made me smile
Browsing through old computer files I just found a text I wrote for school more than four years ago: It was a homework assigned by that mean english teacher who kept telling me constantly how bad my English was and
who I had to endure for two years,
The task was to write a letter in the charakter of a boy / girl living in Victorian times, working as a domestic servant. Happily, that for once the task was a more or less creative one, I was very motivated.
~~***~~~***~~~***
A girl, working as a domestic servant in an upper-class household, writes a letter to her family
~~***~~~***~~~***
Dear father, dearest mother,
Now it's been about a month since I moved in this big beautiful house, working as a domestic servant. And today is the first day that I have time to write this letter to you.
Well, what can I say? You probably know what it's like for a young girl to be so far away from home. And perhaps you have heard how a servant is being treated sometimes. Haven't you heard the story of our neighbour's daughter Mary, who was sent away at the age of eleven, and who just couldn't stand it being treated so badly by the housekeeper, so that, finally, she ran away? Nobody has ever seen her again.! But I don't want you to worry! I'm quite fine. If only I didn't miss you so much, my beloved parents. I know you don't want to hear this, and, promised, I will avoid repeating it again. But still, it is true.
I know you want me to behave like an adult and not to act like a selfish child. But that's what I am: A girl, not even thirteen. And am I selfish? I think I am. I mean, I know our family needs the money, but I can't help wishing to be allowed to return home.
But this won't be possible, will it? How's the baby doing? Is she still sick? Please don't tell me she has died!! Are the others doing well? How's my brother Mikey's work going on? Is everything the same?
Here nothing differs from day to day. I have to work from 6 a.m. to 9 p.m. I have to sweep the floor, dust and light the oven, help their cook (imagine, they've got their own cook!) to prepare breakfast, supper and dinner, clean the rooms and make the beds and fill the bathtubs with hot water every third day. Unbelievable, isn't it? We never dared to dream to wash ourselves so often with hot water. I even have to dress and undress 12-year old Sarah, who is the eldest child in the family. She's a very spoiled girl. Once she got angry because her mother told her to study after dinner, so she threw her plate with food on the floor. How can she act like that, always wasting food? Doesn't she know that poor people would give everything to have a meal like hers? I'm getting sick of watching her, with her golden, neatly brushed hair and her smooth white skin. I'd like her to be sent away to where I came from, just for one day! To let her see the dirty faces, the torn clothes, and the food we call "sacred", while it is hardly enough to feed half the family and which is the sort of wood she wouldn't even bother to look at.
Her younger sister, little Meg, is different from her. She knows a lot for her age. Oh, before I forget, another terrible thing happened while I was here: Miss Jacobs, the children's governess, had to leave the house. She was a beautiful, extremely intelligent woman, who taught grammar, history, art, and even French! (Can you see how lucky the children are?) Sometimes, if I did very well and worked very hard the day before, I was allowed to listen while they were having lessons. This were the best moments I ever had since I came here, and the greatest gift I could receive. But now, Miss Jacobs, who I actually called Rose, which is her first name, is gone. She has been replaced by old fat Miss Wood, who beats the children with a stick if they haven't learned the verbs.
To be honest, I'm happy that Sarah is being beaten, but I'm sorry for Meg. Rose never hit anyone. The reason why she was fired was that she had planned a secret marriage. She had fallen in love with a boy from town and the sometimes met secretly. Rose seemed so happy that time. But the family where Rose and I work found out about the relationship and the planned marriage. You probably know that it is not allowed and considered highly immoral to work as a married woman. I think it was that slut Sarah, listening at the door while Rose told me about him. And Sarah told her parents at once. I hate her more than ever for doing this. Gentle Rose Jacobs. I was becoming friend with Rose, and I know how she loved her job. But she also loved the man she was going out with. I swear that she had tears in her eyes when the moment came for her to leave. Meg cried too, but Sarah had a big grin on her face.
That night, the sisters had a big fight going on. Meg said, that she would become a governess one day, and Sarah answered that upper-class girls never became governesses, that they wouldn't work as anything when they were grown-up. But Meg claimed that she WOULD become a governess, and even wanted to get married in case she fell in love, and asked why both wasn't possible and why Miss Jacobs had to go, and Sarah said that a married woman couldn't work because her husband and their children needed her, and Meg inquired why the husband couldn't stay at home and look after the children and doing the household, why it had always to be the women. The fight went on until the girls went to bed and fell asleep. I thought for a very long time about the things Meg had said.
Hugs and kisses,
your loving daughter Mary
A girl, working as a domestic servant in an upper-class household, writes a letter to her family
~~***~~~***~~~***
Dear father, dearest mother,
Now it's been about a month since I moved in this big beautiful house, working as a domestic servant. And today is the first day that I have time to write this letter to you.
Well, what can I say? You probably know what it's like for a young girl to be so far away from home. And perhaps you have heard how a servant is being treated sometimes. Haven't you heard the story of our neighbour's daughter Mary, who was sent away at the age of eleven, and who just couldn't stand it being treated so badly by the housekeeper, so that, finally, she ran away? Nobody has ever seen her again.! But I don't want you to worry! I'm quite fine. If only I didn't miss you so much, my beloved parents. I know you don't want to hear this, and, promised, I will avoid repeating it again. But still, it is true.
I know you want me to behave like an adult and not to act like a selfish child. But that's what I am: A girl, not even thirteen. And am I selfish? I think I am. I mean, I know our family needs the money, but I can't help wishing to be allowed to return home.
But this won't be possible, will it? How's the baby doing? Is she still sick? Please don't tell me she has died!! Are the others doing well? How's my brother Mikey's work going on? Is everything the same?
Here nothing differs from day to day. I have to work from 6 a.m. to 9 p.m. I have to sweep the floor, dust and light the oven, help their cook (imagine, they've got their own cook!) to prepare breakfast, supper and dinner, clean the rooms and make the beds and fill the bathtubs with hot water every third day. Unbelievable, isn't it? We never dared to dream to wash ourselves so often with hot water. I even have to dress and undress 12-year old Sarah, who is the eldest child in the family. She's a very spoiled girl. Once she got angry because her mother told her to study after dinner, so she threw her plate with food on the floor. How can she act like that, always wasting food? Doesn't she know that poor people would give everything to have a meal like hers? I'm getting sick of watching her, with her golden, neatly brushed hair and her smooth white skin. I'd like her to be sent away to where I came from, just for one day! To let her see the dirty faces, the torn clothes, and the food we call "sacred", while it is hardly enough to feed half the family and which is the sort of wood she wouldn't even bother to look at.
Her younger sister, little Meg, is different from her. She knows a lot for her age. Oh, before I forget, another terrible thing happened while I was here: Miss Jacobs, the children's governess, had to leave the house. She was a beautiful, extremely intelligent woman, who taught grammar, history, art, and even French! (Can you see how lucky the children are?) Sometimes, if I did very well and worked very hard the day before, I was allowed to listen while they were having lessons. This were the best moments I ever had since I came here, and the greatest gift I could receive. But now, Miss Jacobs, who I actually called Rose, which is her first name, is gone. She has been replaced by old fat Miss Wood, who beats the children with a stick if they haven't learned the verbs.
To be honest, I'm happy that Sarah is being beaten, but I'm sorry for Meg. Rose never hit anyone. The reason why she was fired was that she had planned a secret marriage. She had fallen in love with a boy from town and the sometimes met secretly. Rose seemed so happy that time. But the family where Rose and I work found out about the relationship and the planned marriage. You probably know that it is not allowed and considered highly immoral to work as a married woman. I think it was that slut Sarah, listening at the door while Rose told me about him. And Sarah told her parents at once. I hate her more than ever for doing this. Gentle Rose Jacobs. I was becoming friend with Rose, and I know how she loved her job. But she also loved the man she was going out with. I swear that she had tears in her eyes when the moment came for her to leave. Meg cried too, but Sarah had a big grin on her face.
That night, the sisters had a big fight going on. Meg said, that she would become a governess one day, and Sarah answered that upper-class girls never became governesses, that they wouldn't work as anything when they were grown-up. But Meg claimed that she WOULD become a governess, and even wanted to get married in case she fell in love, and asked why both wasn't possible and why Miss Jacobs had to go, and Sarah said that a married woman couldn't work because her husband and their children needed her, and Meg inquired why the husband couldn't stay at home and look after the children and doing the household, why it had always to be the women. The fight went on until the girls went to bed and fell asleep. I thought for a very long time about the things Meg had said.
Hugs and kisses,
your loving daughter Mary
The teacher handed the five-paper text back to me with a sly (or was it more a sour?) smile on her face and the words that I would be in serious trouble if I kept on writing such long homeworks. (O-Ton: Wenn du es dir mit mir verscherzen willst, schreib weiterhin so lange Hausaufgaben)
Anyway, I liked it and typed it so I wouldn't loose it, and now it was funny to reread it. It hasn't got an outstanding original plot, I know, but I somehow I think it's nice (&stupid. But nice:)
And in a way I've got the impression that my written english was way better then than it is now...