Monday, November 1, 2010

I had to wash milk bottles standing on a wooden stool.


My parents were divorced and my father was given custody of my brother and I. But he worked around the clock in the best hotels, like the Hotel Astor, the Waldorf Astoria, and later in the Berkshires at a New England ski resort.

So we became wards, or members, of the New England Home for Little Wanderers … which meant we had no home, we wandered about.

Well my father paid well for the foster homes and my clothes. I was allowed to pick out clothes myself and I remember I picked a dress with the largest skirt so I could twirl in it.

I tried piano lessons, and I didn’t care for that, so I hid my lessons in the manure pile. And since I lived on a farm, no one could find the music.

I had to wash milk bottles standing on a wooden box. I usually was dreaming music in colors as I washed the bottles.

When I finally escaped to Miss Slater’s dance school, it made life easier to bear.

Here are my ballet practice shoes … all worn out … but believe it or not, I saved them and wore then last week to our Engage Senior Olympic event and they still fit like a soft leather glove. But I had to be careful for as you see, they are well worn, and I might trip if I wasn’t walking as light as a dancer can.

Lillian

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