Alphonse and Carolina: The End of the Story

School was surprisingly easy for Alley in America in spite of lessons being taught in English and most of his classmates being German immigrants.   Ten year old Alley and his brother, twelve year old Enrico, whom everyone called Henry, were both tall handsome boys.  The brothers walked home from school as eight year old Pia and six year old Emilio followed behind.  The two oldest siblings, Angelina, who was now sixteen, and Sebastian who was now fourteen, were in a different school since they were already in high school.  Alley held open the door to the butcher as the others entered.  He whispered to Henry, "Do you have the money that mama gave us?"    Henry searched his pockets until he found the precious coins.  "What are we buying today?" Pia asked.  "1 pound of chop meat and eight links of sausage." Henry responded.  Cheese hung from the ceiling and meats lined the shelves as they waited in line for their turn.  Emilio started to touch the bags of pasta that were on the center table.  Allie instructed, "Pia, hold Mimi's hand so that he doesn't touch."  Henry placed the order and they waited while the butcher packaged the meat.  Mimi asked, "Can't we get some candy at the five and dime?"  "No, there isn't enough money. When grandpa comes back from his visit, he will bring some candy for all of us." Henry explained.

The children walked another block before they entered the building.  They walked up two flights and noisily entered their apartment.  Once inside, the children saw their mother and grandmother crying and their voices died away.  Nana was holding a letter and her tears were falling on the words and blotting the ink.  Maria wiped her eyes with her apron and took the package of meat and placed it in the icebox as she instructed them to take their shoes off and to go to their room to do their homework.  Pia asked, "But mama, why is nana crying?"  Rosa, Maria's mother let out another sob and Maria went to comfort her.  At that moment, Angelina and Sebastian walked in and stopped in their tracks as they saw the scene before them.  "What is it?" Angelina asked.  Maria finally explained, "We just received a letter from my cousin in Palma, grandpa is not coming home.  He passed away the day before he was supposed to return."  "What happened to him?" Angelina pressed.  "All we know is that there was a party and the next morning, he didn't wake up.  He died in his sleep."  

"What are we going to do?" Sebastian asked.  He knew that the family depended on Grandpa to work and support the family.  Even with his mother working at the chocolate factory, without Grandpa, there wouldn't be enough money.  "Nana and I have been trying to figure that out.  Angelina and you will have to leave school and go to work.  Henry can stay in school for now."  "What about us?" Pia asked.  There is an orphanage that will take you and Mimi until I can make enough money to bring you home again."  Alley stood still, his name was not mentioned and he didn't know what that meant.  "And me?" he asked.  "Zi' Funz, your father's brother, has offered his home to you.  You are his namesake and he'd like you to go live with him.  He and Zia Maria have no children of their own."  

Two weeks later, Alley prepared to move to his uncle and aunt's house.  But the day before he was to move there, a tragedy unfolded.  Zi' Funz's brother-in-law, Antonio, who was married to Zi' Funz's sister who lived in Italy, decided that he wanted Zia Maria to elope with him.  Knowing that the boy was supposed to come live with Zia Maria the next day, Antonio came to their home and told Zia Maria that she must leave a letter he had written for her husband and that she must run away with him.  Zia Maria didn't want to go with Antonio but Antonio had a gun.  She backed away from him to the kitchen window.  As she tried to climb through the window to the fire escape, Antonio shot her.  Believing that he had killed her, Antonio turned the gun on himself.  But the bullet that had hit Zia Maria had ricocheted off of her bone corset.  Uninjured, she jumped to the next fire escape and broke the window of her neighbor's apartment.  She ran right through the apartment and collapsed in the hallway.  The neighbor found a policeman outside and the police investigated further, finding Antonio dead in Zia Maria's apartment holding the letter he had written for her to leave for her husband.  Zi' Funz was called home from work at the factory where he varnished coffins.  Even the Brooklyn Eagle, the local newspaper, sent a reporter and an article was printed in the paper the next day!  Zia Maria would be fine, but it would be another week before Alley could go to live with them.  

In the years that followed, Alley saw his siblings and his mother often.  Eventually, Maria was able to bring Pia and Mimi back home with her.  But Zi' Funz and Zia Maria never did give Alley back to his mother.  Maria married again and had one more child, a daughter, Josephine.  

Because they had no children of their own, Zi' Funz and Zia Maria were able to send Alphonse to college.  He attended Columbia University and studied to be a Pharmacist/Chemist.  While at college, Alphonse went with some friends to a dance at Columbia for the university's  Italian American Inter-Collegiate Society.  He noticed a pretty girl sitting with her friends.  She felt his eyes on her and she met his gaze with a boldness that only comes from confidence.  Intrigued, Alphonse approached her and smiled.  She smiled and spoke in French to her girlfriend.  Puzzled, he asked, "French, at an Italian American meeting?"  She replied, "I am a language major at Hunter College."  Alphonse introduced himself, "My name is Al."  She replied, "I am Carolina, but my friends call me Lena." 

As they spoke through the evening, Carolina told Alphonse that she lived with her aunt and uncle.  She explained that they didn't have any children of their own and that her father had given her to them.  She had come to America with her step-mother, brother, and three younger step-sisters.  The youngest of which, Eva, had died shortly after their arrival in New York.  Her father and step-mother had twins after that, a boy and a girl.  The girl twin had also been named Eva.  Carolina missed being with her siblings, but there were advantages to being the only child of her aunt and uncle.  After all, she was attending college.

Carolina (Lena) and Alphonse (Funzie) each lost a parent at a young age.  Both lost a little sister shortly after arriving in America.  Both grew up in the homes of an aunt and uncle, away from their siblings and natural parent.  Both had the opportunity to attend college because they were the only child of an aunt and uncle.  They were married in 1927 and they had three children, thirteen grandchildren, many great grandchildren and great-great grandchildren.  Nothing was as important to them as family.  They enjoyed watching their family grow and their home was the center of family gatherings for many years to come.  Alphonse passed away on October 13, 1991 at the age of 90 and his wife followed him almost exactly a year later.  She died on October 17, 1992, at the age of 89, a year to the day of her husband's burial.  After her death, her half-sister, Eva, the twin, told me that Carolina's mother, Aida, had died giving birth to her.  Eva's mother, Angelina, had told Eva the truth, but told her it was to be kept a secret from Carolina. However when we uncovered a registry from the town where Carolina was born, it revealed that Aida died two years after the birth of Carolina.  Perhaps she did die in childbirth, but it was not the birth of Carolina.  

Carolina's Journey to America

Aida

(This story is based on facts about Carolina's early childhood and her journey to America.  I have edited it now that some research has revealed that Aida died two years after Carolina was born.  Carolina's youngest half-sister, Eva, had sent me a letter in the 1990's telling me that her mother, Angelina, told her that Aida died in childbirth giving birth to Carolina but that Carolina never knew this.  In fact, Carolina always said that her mother died when she was two.  Now that we have found records from Italy showing that indeed, Aida died two years after Carolina's birth, I have edited my story to reflect that fact.)

Angelo closed the door to the bedroom that held his wife's body.  Three year old Armando tugged at his coat.  "Papa, can I see mama now?"  Angelo patted him on his head but said nothing.  He bent down to pick up two year old Carolina.  The child smiled at her father's touch but her smile, so much like her mother's, only sharpened his pain.  He held the little girl out to his sister, Clautilda, "Take her."  He said nothing more as he burst out of the house, trying to find air he could breathe.  The house smelled like death and tears stung and threatened to leak out of his eyes.  He walked briskly toward his store and sought refuge in the familiar tasks of the day, filling the bushels with fresh fruits and vegetables, talking with the customers, making believe that life had not changed for him.  Perhaps he would return to the house and his sisters would tell him that they were mistaken, that Aida had only fainted from the difficult birth.  Perhaps she was smiling, sitting up in their bed, waiting for him to return to her right at this very moment.  But still, he lingered at the store, long after it was closed for the day.

"Angelo, it's time to make a decision.  What will become of the children?" Lucia repeated for the hundredth time that week.  He held his coffee cup to his lips and took in the comforting smell before taking a long drink. Lucia looked at her brother, he had always been such a strong man, but now his shoulders hunched over the kitchen table as if he wanted to collapse in on himself.  He loved Aida, she was the light of his life and he never imagined that he would live without her.  Her portrait hung on the wall in the living room, still beautiful and full of life.  But Aida was gone now.  Left behind were her broken husband and her two young children. "Angelo, what is to be done with them?  You must make a decision."  He only shook his head.  Clautilda walked into the room and sat at the table with her brother and sister.  "Angelo, I've been thinking about this.  If you'd like, I can take Car with me."  "To the convent?" Lucia asked.  "Yes, she can be my ward and I will look after her there."  Angelo didn't trust his voice so he simply nodded in assent.  "Good, than I will make the preparations."  "But what about Armando?" Lucia  pressed.  "He will stay with me." Angelo commanded.
The years passed.  Carolina became a favorite of the nuns in the convent.  She helped her Aunt Clautilda in the kitchen and set the tables for the meals.  The nuns were kind to her and taught her to be thankful for small things.  But at night, she dreamed.  In her dreams she imagined what it would be like if she could live with her father, brother, step-mother, and half sisters.  She wondered why she didn't live with them, why her father had given her away.  Did her father want her to grow up devout, to become a good nun someday?  She tried to be good.  She tried hard to make him happy when she saw him, but he never seemed to be able to look at her.  Sometimes, like for special holidays, Aunt Clautilda would take her to visit her family and she would watch as her half sisters played with their toys and marvel at their connection to each other, their familiarity with each other.  She would follow her brother to their father's store and she how comfortable he was working for their father.  He knew all of the customers and they all knew him.  She walked through those visits like a stranger among her own family.  After one of these visits she asked her aunt why she was chosen to live separately.  Her aunt would only say, "You were young when your mother died, your father couldn't care for you then so he gave you to me.  Aren't you happy fala nina?"  "Yes zia, I am happy."  There was nothing else she could ask without hurting her aunt, so she said nothing further.

One day Carolina put on her apron and entered the convent's kitchen to help her aunt and she saw that her aunt was crying.  "What is it zia?  Has one of the sisters become ill?"  "No fala nina,  Your father has sent word from America that he wants his family to join him there."  "Oh." Carolina looked down quickly, trying not to cry.  They were all going to leave now.  No matter how tenuous her connection to her family was up to this point, now it would be even more distant.  Her heart hurt so much that she thought she would never be able to smile again.  She turned to enter the dining room to set the table.  Like her father, the familiar chores of the day helped her to push the sadness out of her mind.  She did not think at all.  She counted, one, two three, four, as she set the plates, five, six, seven, eight . . . "Carolina" she turned at the sound of her name on her aunt's lips.  She never called her by her name so she knew there was something more coming.  She looked up at Clautilda whose eyes were rimmed in red.  Clautilda used her handkerchief to wipe at her eyes.  "Carolina, you will be going to America with them."  The child ran across the room and clasped herself to her aunt.  "Truly?"  Clautilda shook her head.  "I will miss you fala nina.  America is very far away."  Carolina felt the twist of guilt in her chest, she was glad to be going to America with her family, but that meant leaving her aunt behind.  "I will write you every day," she promised.  "That is a good child.  Now after you set the table, you will need to pack your clothes.  I will take you to meet your step-mother at the port of Naples and you will join your family on the journey."  Carolina thought for a moment, "Zia, can I take the portrait of my mother?  The one that hangs on the wall in my room?"  Clautilda thought for a moment, she knew that this would be difficult for her brother, but she knew that Aida's daughter should take her portrait with her.  "Yes, we will pack it in your luggage."

The ship moved slowly over the sea that summer of 1913 toward its destination and the arms of the Statue of Liberty.  The days on the journey were difficult but Carolina didn't mind it at all.  She was with her family!  Her step-mother, Angelina, was very kind and her little sisters were sweet.  She couldn't give them enough hugs to make up for all of the missed time!  The oldest child, Aida, was five.  The next, Ada, was three.  And the baby, Eva, was one.  In addition, Carolina's brother, Armando, was with her.  At thirteen he was handsome and attracted the attention of all the young girls on the ship.  Carolina was proud to be his sister and savored the times he took her with him as he traversed the passages of the ship.  She was also surprised to see how difficult it was for those passengers traveling in steerage.  Her father had arrange for them to travel second class which was far better conditions than those that existed below.

As they approached Ellis Island, Carolina became nervous.  Her father was there waiting for her.  How should she tell him how grateful she was that he had arranged for her to join him in America?  Should she rush to him and jump in his arms?  Should she play the part of a young lady and demurely curtsy to him and offer her hand, after all, she was ten years old now.  She was not a child anymore.  She practiced her curtsy over and over, trying to get it perfect.

She was holding Eva in her arms when they saw him waiting for them at the reception room on Ellis Island where families were reunited.  Her father looked relieved to see that his family had arrived safely and he greeted his wife first and took Ada from her arms.  Aida, whom everyone called Edith, wrapped herself around his leg tightly as if she was afraid he would disappear if she didn't have him within her grasp.  Carolina stood back from them as she watched this scene of a family reuniting.  Her family.  Her heart had trouble beating in rhythm.  A coldness covered her and she shivered.  Angelina saw Carolina turn white so she reached for Eva and drew the baby into arms.  Angelina asked, "Carolina, are you alright?" With a dry mouth she replied, "Yes, mam."  Angelo stood next to Armando who was almost as tall as their father.  "Father, where shall we go now?" Angelo looked toward Carolina and nodded a polite welcome.  "Follow me, Armando, take as much of the luggage that you can carry.  I have a wagon over here."  They all followed him and loaded the bags into the wagon.  Carolina followed in a daze, she was living her dream.  She was with her family and they were traveling to their new home in America, together!

They arrived at the tenement house on Hamilton Avenue in Brooklyn.  Carolina looked around at the small three room apartment but didn't mind the crowded conditions.  She joyfully helped her little sisters with their bags and marveled at the bedroom that all of the children would share.  It was late and she had just settled her sisters in bed when a knock came at the door to the apartment.  She creaked open the bedroom door to see a man and woman standing in the kitchen.  She heard her father call her and she thought how nice it was to hear him say her name.  She closed the door behind her gently, so that her sisters would not waken.  Her father addressed her, "Carolina, this is Zio Lorenzo and Zia Anna.  Zio Lorenzo is your mother's brother."  Carolina smiled and managed to say, "Buona sera."  She used the curtsy she had practiced for greeting her father.  She bent low like a princess, barely able to conceal her joy at meeting her mother's brother.  She stood as still as she could while her uncle reached down to kiss her cheeks.  This all seemed too much for her.  More family than she ever dreamed of!  Then she heard the words her father said, but thought she must have misunderstood.  She looked at him, questioning him with her eyes.  So he explained further, "Zio Lorenzo and Zia Anna have no children of their own, you will go to live with them here in New York.  Go get your bag so that Zio Lorenzo can take it to his wagon."  Carolina looked at her step mother who was crying near the sink.  Angelina crossed the room and knelt down beside the little girl she had become very attached to on their journey to America.  "I am sorry Carolina, I didn't know how to tell you."  Carolina backed away from Angelina and felt the door to the bedroom behind her.  The bedroom where her half-sisters lay sleeping.  The bedroom she thought she was going to share with them.  She looked toward her handsome brother who stood near the door to the apartment.  His eyes were cast down.  He couldn't look at her either.  Zia Anna walked over to her and took her hand.  "Come, we will go to the wagon.  Lorenzo, you will bring her bag."  Angelo looked at his daughter with a pain so severe that he could not hide it and it pierced Carolina's soul.  But he did not stop her aunt from leading her away.

A few streets from her family, Carolina stood in a pretty bedroom that was all her own.  She opened the suitcase and unwrapped the portrait of her mother.  She hugged it to her and then crossed the room and stopped in front of the dresser.  She looked into the eyes in the portrait as tears filled her own eyes.  She spoke to the portrait in a whisper, "At least you will still be with me, mama."  She kissed the image on the sketch and lifted the portrait high enough to settle it securely on top of the dresser.  She walked back to her bed and slowly unpacked her belongings.  This was her new home.

Alphonse's Journey to America

(This story is what I have imagined but is based on a true story I uncovered while researching my husband's family tree.)

A young boy stood by and watched as his mother, sisters, and brothers laid flowers on his father's coffin.  Next to the open grave were three tiny headstones, one for Vincent, one for Linda, and one for the first Evelyn, his brother and sisters who died as small children.  One by one, each of them cautiously approached the hole that the coffin hovered over.  He held the hand of his youngest sister, Evelyn.  She still had not shed a tear and he worried that at the age of five she did not understand that their father was gone forever.  Evelyn looked up at her brother and said, "Can I keep my flower?"  He looked around at the others, not sure if this was a question he could answer on his own, after all, he was only eight years old.  "Please, Alley, I want to keep it to help me remember him.  Besides, the flower will just die if I leave it here.  If I keep it, I can dry it properly and keep it always."  The boy smiled at his little sister and said, "Here, you and I will share my flower and leave this one for the grave and then you can take yours with you."  He took her flower and hid it inside a pocket on her little apron.  After the others had started to walk away from the grave-site, Alley and Evelyn approached the coffin.  He held her hand firmly, afraid she might fall through the gap that surrounded the coffin.  Together, they placed the fragile flower on their father's coffin.  Together they said goodbye to their father, knowing that they were about to embark on a long journey that would take them far away from this place that had always been their home.  They would never see his grave again.  They walked away and followed the others in the procession through the village.

The following day, their father's mother stuffed blankets full of cheese and bread into their hands as their father's father hauled a box full of wine into the wagon.  Kisses and tears flooded over the children as they stood together excited about the journey ahead of them.  Goodbyes aren't something that children really understand.  To them there is always time for reunions so they were not as worried as the adults.  They were going to America, after all!  They knew that they would become rich and be able to travel back over the sea to visit their homeland whenever they wanted.  Besides, at the other end of their journey their other grandparents were waiting for them in a place called New York.

They waved goodbye to their grandfather from the bow of the big ship.  Steam blew through the smoke stacks clouding the cold blue sky above with a black haze.  The shadows of the towering stacks blocked the meager afternoon sun and caused Alley to shiver.  As the shore disappeared from view, the children followed their mother, Maria, down to the bowels of the ship where steerage passengers huddled together.  Their mother had already prepared a place for the children.  They had to share cots since there weren't enough for all of the passengers.  Still the children looked on the journey as an adventure.

At first the days were passed with enthusiasm.  The families around them joined together to play the music of their country.  They danced to the Tarantella and clapped their hands.  Their feet moving in the familiar patterns.  But it wasn't long before some of the passengers became sick.  As the coughs increased, the sense of community decreased.  People retreated to their cots, afraid of being too close to their neighbors.  They huddled instead around their hard bread and wine.  More days passed and the bread grew moldy, but they ate it anyway.  The seas grew rough at times and tossed the occupants and their cots across the wooden floor.  Maria prayed to the Virgin Mother to protect her children, all seven of them, so that they might reach the shores of America safely.

Word spread quickly when land finally came into sight.  The children rejoiced and laughed as they raced between the cots and the scolding words of the adults.  Two boys were fighting over an orange that one had saved under his pillow.  One of the boys ran right into Alley's seven year old sister, Pia. She screamed as the orange split in half and squirted it's juice into her face.  "My eyes!  They sting!" she cried.  "Shhhush!"  Her mother picked up her skirt to wipe the child's eyes.  "It is fine, you will be alright!  We must get ready to leave the ship.  Here, take your clothes and wrap them in your blanket."   She set the girl to work and soon the family was walking off the plank and onto the frozen dock.  It was Christmas Eve, 1909.

Ellis Island loomed in front of them.  Stories of people who were turned back at this point filled their heads.   Maria clucked as her little chicks followed her in line.  The smallest of them in front, the tallest followed behind the others.  Maria held the hands of the two smallest children, Emilio and Evelyn. Behind them came Pia, Alphonse, Enrico, and Sebastian. The last, the oldest, Angela, counted and recounted the heads in front of her to make sure they were all still there.  Languages swirled around them, mixing together into a chorus of confusion.  The adults could barely breathe for fear that a cough might escape their lips and the gates to America would be closed to them.  The children were tired. They had made the long journey to America and now they had to stand in a line for hours.  They were hungry and thirsty.  Their little feet dragged under the weight of their baggage.  But they remained quiet, they all knew what was at stake.

Maria saw the doctor first.  Then one by one, her children were ushered into the room with pointed instruments that turned up your eyelids.  The doctor shook his head when he saw Pia's irritated eyes. In a language that Maria didn't know, the doctor tried to explain that her daughter could not leave Ellis Island until she was examined further.  Then he said a word she knew, "Conjunctivitis."  Now she understood and tried to explain in vain that her daughter had just had an orange squirted in her eyes. The doctor shook his head and separated Pia and Maria from the other children.  Maria shouted over the heads of the other children to fourteen year old Angela.  "Take the children with you, Nana and Papa will be waiting for you. We will join you when they see that Pia is fine."

It was ten days before Maria and Pia were released.  Maria's father, Fioravanti, came to gather his daughter and grandchild.  He stood very still as Maria rushed to embrace him.  Stepping back she reached for her daughter, "Pia, this is your grandfather, come, give Papa a kiss," she instructed.   Pia shyly approached her grandfather and looked up into his hard-worn face.  He bent down low to receive her kiss but instead of standing again, he held onto the child as if he needed her young strength to live. He buried his face against her heart and began to cry.  Maria became alarmed and pulled at her father's arm.  "Papa, what is it?  Is it Mama?"  Fioravanti shook his head.  He lifted the child in his arms as he pulled himself up to his full height.  "Cara Mia, I am so sorry.  Evelyn . . ." his voice broke up.  Maria felt a roar in her ears and the room began to spin.  In the distance she could hear Pia crying.  Fioravanti had put the little girl down and was now embracing Maria, suffocating her between his broad shoulders.  Her hands came up as she placed her arms between them, pushing him away, she began to beat her fists on his chest.  "No! No!" she cried.  But in spite of her denial, she heard his words above the roar that filled her ears.  "It was pneumonia, there was nothing to be done.  She has been buried in Potters Field. I am sorry, Maria, but there is no money for a grave.  We had no choice.  It is over, Maria, it is over," he cried.

Spring came.  Maria and her son, Alley, stood over a small grave with a number for a marker.  In her hands, Maria held her daughter's apron.  She knelt down and touched the wet dirt as a sob escaped her lips.  "My daughter, my beautiful daughter," she repeated in her despair.  She brought the apron to her face and breathed in deeply, trying to absorb the smell of her daughter that still lingered in the fabric.  A rustling reached her ear as she pressed the material to her face.  Slowly she lowered the apron toward the grave, but as she did so something fell from the pocket.  It was a flower.  A dried flower from her husband's funeral fell onto her little girl's grave.

Eighteen Years

This week my son, my baby, will turn 18 years old.

The past 18 years have been filled with so many amazing experiences.  This little boy came into our lives at a point when we had almost given up hope that our daughter would have a sibling.  Born just ten days after her birthday, he was her birthday present when she turned five.  Simply put, he completed our family.

In honor of his 18th birthday, and as I stand at the precipice of his graduating high school and leaving for college, I thought it would be a nice time to reprint an article I wrote about him that was published in the Suffolk County News on September 6, 2001.  None of us knew then how our lives would change within a week.  The destruction of the twin towers destroyed lives and destroyed the sense of peace and safety that Americans had come to know since the end of the Cold War.  Yes there were wars, but they weren't here.  We had stopped looking at the sky with fear.  How wrong we were.

A few months after this article was published, I faced a personal crises that almost ended my life.  I will speak about that at another time, but I wanted you to know that no matter how important time with my children was before this time in my life, it was nothing compared to how important time with them was about to become.  So for your enjoyment, here is my article, "Kindergarten Mom":

Before he goes to sleep he still says, "Will you come and check on me in the night?" and I say, "Of course."  He still comes running to me during the day and asks, "Can I have a big hug?" and I say, "Of course."  And he still asks me, "How much do you love me mommy?" and I say, "To infinity and beyond."  But now my youngest child is entering full-day kindergarten.  

He wants to be a superhero and special agent when he's a teenager, and when he's all grown up he's going to be the first astronaut to live on Mars, but for now he sits on the couch in the living room watching cartoons on morning television.

I have had a baby or small child home for 10 years now, so this is going to be quite an adjustment for me.  The idea of having some time for myself is quite appealing; however, it comes at the expense of having my child grow up, and with the knowledge that soon he will become as independent as his older sister.

He wakes up every morning now and asks, "Am I going to school today?"  I answer, "In a few more days."  The excitement he feels at finally being a "kindergartner" is a joy to watch.  Since he was two, he's been waiting to get on that school bus with the bigger kids.  Now it's his turn.  

So, I'll put him on that school bus and smile through my tears, because my baby is growing up.  But for as long as it lasts, I will treasure each morning that he jumps into my bed to tell me about the dream he had the night before.  We'll still have time to take walks on fall afternoons and place acorns and pine cones and pretty colored leaves in a brown paper bag for his "collection."  And I'll still tuck him into bed at night and when he asks, "Will you check on me tonight?", I will say, "Of course" . . . for as long as you want me to, because I love you to infinity and beyond.

Daisy's Story

I am old now and most of my life is behind me.  I lift my head at a sound, it is quiet in the house and I am alone.  But my heart beats faster as I hear the door open and in spite of my age, I stand up as quickly as I can and run to the door.  She walks in and I wag my tail with joy!  I call her mom, but she isn’t the mom I had when I was little.  

A long time ago I lived in a cage.  My mother had many puppies like me.  She was old and tired and the life was nearly worn out of her by the time I was born.  Of course, I didn’t know that then.  With my eyes barely open, all that I knew was that she kept me warm and fed me when I was hungry.  I didn’t know then that she wasn’t always going to be with me. 

Weeks passed and then the man took me from her.  I was put in a crowded cage with others like me.  I was cold.  I tried to snuggle with the others, but they didn’t want me and so they nipped at my fur.  I retreated to a lonely corner of the cage.  For a long time, my stomach ached with hunger.  Then the man came and he put one bowl of food inside the cage.  I jumped up and ran to the food and put my face deep into the dish and took in the delicious smell, so grateful for the morsels.  As I took my first mouthful, I heard a growl behind me.  Before I knew it, the growls grew and surrounded me.  I stopped eating and looked up.  Bared teeth hovered over the food bowl.  I hadn’t even swallowed yet when those teeth embedded themselves deep in my neck.  The attack came from all around so I had no other choice but to defend myself!  I fought back.  I ripped whatever my teeth sunk into.  After all, it was them or me.  The noise must have brought the man back.  He yelled as he grabbed me and tied me with his itchy rope.  He tightened it even tighter under my front legs.  The knots ate into my flesh.  He tied me to the corner of the cage and then locked the cage as he left.  The others resumed eating their supper.  I tried to curl into a ball to comfort myself, but the knots sticking into my soft flesh made it hard to lie down. 

Months passed and the others came and went, replaced by others still.  The ropes had grown into my flesh.  I was weak from the little food that I was allowed.  And I learned to be thankful for the times when the others left me alone.  I was better off than most of the others, they chewed on each other when the food didn’t come.  My life became hopeless.  Sometimes I would dream of my mom and wonder where she was.  But I learned not to dream because dreaming only made me sadder. 

One day there was a great commotion, loud noises, people yelling, the others barked and I grew very frightened.  Strangers came to the cage and opened it with the man’s key.  They had giant gloves on their hands and a pole with a hoop at the end of it and they used it to capture the others one by one.  The strangers lifted each of them out and put them in crates.   After they were all out, they came for me.  I growled but they still took me.  They brought me to a place that smelled like fear and I never saw the others again.  I was put in a cage by myself.  A stranger took me out of my new cage and put me on a cold metal table.  She untied the knots of the rope and pulled it away from my skin as the blood oozed.  Old scabs were opened up as they poked at the wounds on my chest.  She stuck me with a sharp needle and then put me back into my cage.  I laid down for the first time without the knots eating into my skin. What was this place?  What was going to happen to me now?  What happened to the others? I curled up in a ball and I licked my paws.  I licked, and I licked, and I licked and my paws started to bleed but I kept licking. 

Weeks passed and then a man came to see me.  The woman took me out of the cage and gave me to him.  He put a collar around my neck and attached a leash to it.  He wanted me to follow him, but I sat down and wouldn’t move.  He pulled on the leash until I had to get up.  We walked outside and I thought I had to run for it! I pulled against the leash and tried with all my might to get away but it was hopeless.  I couldn’t break away.  He put me in a car and drove me to a house.  Inside there was an old man in a wheelchair who looked very scary to me.  The old man touched my fur in a way that felt good but I was still scared.  The other man brought a bowl of food and a bowl of water and placed them in front of me.  I thought, “Was this a trick?”  Would they bite me if I tried to eat the food?  The other man left me with the old man and I laid down and started to shake.  Where was I?  What was going to happen next?  I wouldn’t eat and I wouldn’t drink, I’d wait until I could escape. 

Days passed and I grew hungry so finally, I ate.  The old man put a new collar on me with my name embroidered into it.  He  left me alone most of the time.  He spent a lot of time in his bed.  Gradually, I began to trust him.   I jumped onto the bed and laid down near him.  He touched my fur again in that comforting way.  Then he started to sing, “Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do.  I’m half-crazy, all for the love of you.” His voice was low and gruff but I grew to like it.  I had a home a last!

Months passed and one day the morning sun warmed me and I opened my eyes.  The old man’s hand was on my fur but it wasn’t moving.  It felt . . . odd . . . cold.  I whimpered, but he didn’t move.  I looked at him, his eyes were open, he wasn’t sleeping.  I licked his face, but still he didn’t move.  I laid my head on his chest.

Hours passed and then the other man walked into the bedroom and when he saw me, he started to cry.  Did I do something wrong?  I started to shake again.  The other man touched the old man and then called someone on the telephone.  More people came and they talked loud and made lots of noise.  They tried to touch my old man and I lifted my head and growled at them.  What were they doing?  Some tried to grab me and I barked really loud at them.  They were touching my old man, they were trying to take him away from me!  I sat up and made as much noise as I could.  One of the people had one of those poles with a hoop on the end of it.  I knew what that was!  But no matter what I did, I couldn’t keep them from putting it around my neck.  They pulled me off the bed.  They dragged me out of the house.  They brought me back to the place that smelled like fear. 

Days passed.  I licked my fur until my paws bled. 

One day they took me out of my cage and brought me to a room.  There was a woman in the room and they left me in the room alone with her.  I laid down on the cold floor and I shook.  I didn’t look at her.  I just wanted to know what happened to my old man.  I wanted to go back to his house!  But I was trapped in this room with another stranger now.  Trapped in this place that smelled like fear.  Then she touched my collar and I heard something that sounded familiar.  She was singing and I knew those words.  “Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do.  I’m half-crazy all for the love of you.”  I looked up at her and I saw her smile.  Then she did something amazing, she laid down on the floor so that I wasn’t scared of her anymore.  I licked her hand, one tentative careful lick.  She smiled again and sang some more.  I stopped shaking.  I licked her again.  She just laid there with me for a long time and then they came in and took me back to my cage.  I felt like crying. 

Days passed and then the lady came again.  Again she laid on the floor and sang to me.  I licked her hand again and then someone opened the door.  I heard the surprise in the intruder’s voice, “She licked you?”  Then the intruder took me away again, back to my cage.

The next day the lady came back again.  This time she had a boy and a girl with her.  They also laid down on the floor so that I wouldn’t be scared.  They smelled nice.  I licked them too. 

More days passed, but every day the lady came.  One time she even left a blanket for me that smelled like the boy and the girl.  She also gave me a toy for my cage. 

More days passed and then finally, one day, she came and she put a leash on my collar and took me outside and into her car.  She brought me home to her house and inside there was the girl and the boy and a man.  They showed me a warm bed on the floor that was just for me.  There were toys and bones.  There was a bowl of food and a bowl of water, all just for me.  But I was still scared.  That night the lady put me in a cage and I got even more scared and I cried.  I chewed and chewed on the bars but I couldn’t get them to break off.  Finally, she came downstairs and let me out and sat with me.  She didn’t ever put me back in a cage after that. 

Three days later, I ate.

Six more days later,  I woke up from my bed at the foot of her bed and followed her down the stairs.  I was so happy, I wagged my tail for the first time since I was taken away from my old man.  I saw that my wagging my tail made my new family happy, so I wagged it some more.  I grew comfortable but cautious.  Every time someone came into the house I feared that they would take me away.  They took me for walks to a place where the boy would meet up with other children and then they would climb onto a bus and go away.  The other children tried to touch my fur but I was too scared to let them.  When they tried I would start shaking again. 

The days passed and then one day my family left me outside in the yard and they all went away.  I got very frightened and I tried to chew my way back into the house.  I chewed so hard on the wood that I wore my teeth down.  But I couldn’t get back into the house.  I panicked and I pushed and pushed at the fence until I broke free.  I ran to the front of the house, but I couldn’t get back into the house from there either.  Strangers started calling to me and walking over to me, trying to grab me.  I was afraid that they would take me away and my family wouldn’t know what happened to me!  So I ran into the marshes and hid there.  I kept coming back, but I could see those people there, ready to take me away.  So I ran farther away.  I was walking when all of a sudden the ground gave way and I fell into a pond.  I started to paddle, trying to stay afloat.  I swam to the side and tried to climb out, but the side was too smooth.  There was nowhere to grab on to!  I clawed and clawed at the smooth sides until my paws bled.  I could hear her calling me!  She was home!  I had to make it back to her!  But I couldn’t get out of the deep pond. 

Hours passed and I grew weak.  I almost gave up.  But then I heard a car and the next thing I knew, the man in my family was there looking down at me.  He reached in and grabbed my harness and pulled me out.  I shook my fur hard in an attempt to dry off.  I was so happy to see him!  I ran along with him in spite of my bloody paws.  I jumped into his car and he brought me back to my house.  The door was opened and I ran straight inside to my bed on the floor.  I laid down there and tried to smile so that they would know how happy I was.  I was never going to leave this house again!

The years have passed.  Now the door opens and she walks in and my world becomes whole.  She follows me to the kitchen and understands that I get a treat now since I waited so patiently for her to return.  She sits on the floor with me and pets my fur and I lay back and let her touch the scars on my chest that healed long ago.  I think back to my first mother and how happy she would be to know that I have another mother who loves me and takes care of me.  I think back to my old man and I know he would be happy for me too.  I lick her hand and promise to take care of her too, for as long as I can.  For now I am the old one.  Then she sings to me, “Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do.  I’m half-crazy all for the love of you.”  I close my eyes and dream.