𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 (EDITING)

𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦 - 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘕𝘦𝘸 {1/4}

The coachman helped us take our many trunks off of the carriage, then trotted off down the road. My mother and I stood in front of the land that the cottage was on in awe, for me it was a mixture of amazement and worry. We had about two acres, trees and flower bushes scattered around. But the cottage had seen better days, the grass was very overgrown, the outside brick was covered in vines and dirt, and the paint was chipping. 

Mother understood what I felt, "With a little love, this place will become a lovely home for us. Now, wait here while I clear us a path to the door." I watched her thin figure as she laid down one of the trunks, pulled out a scythe, and began hacking away at the very overgrown grass. Even when she was sick, she always puckered up some energy to do things she was determined to do.

"Eliza! Fetch me a pair of gloves, dear!" She said as she was getting close to the door. I pulled out a pair of leather gloves from the trunk and ran towards her. She took the gloves once she was directly in front of the door. My mother handed me the scythe, pulled on the gloves, and retrieved the key in her dress pocket. With a click, the lock fell to the grass and my mother tried to push open the door. 

It didn't budge. Mother continued to pull and push on the wooden door. In a final attempt, she used all her strength and pushed. It squeaked loudly and flew open, it was very dark and there were sheets over the furniture that was left behind. My mother walked in with her hands on her hips 

"This will make a fine home for us, Eliza, I can just picture it!" She said with confidence as she turned to face me, her face red and slightly sweaty. "Let's get our trunks inside, shall we?"

After we dragged our trunks inside the main room, my mother asked, "Dear? Can you help me pull back these curtains?" 

"Yes, Mama!"

The curtains were quite heavy and stiff, but we managed to pull them all off the rack. She had asked me to take the sheets off of the furniture and place them in a pile on the floor along with the curtains while she made another path outside to the water pump. As I worked, I sneezed quite a bit because of the dust that hadn't seen the light of day in over thirty years. The furniture appeared very old-fashioned but they were comfortable.

The cottage was small but it was all we needed, it had two bedrooms, two washrooms, a family room, a kitchen, and a small cellar for cold goods and added storage.

For the next few weeks, my mother and I cut all of the overgrown grass, cleaned the bricks outside, washed the floors, dusted, rearranged all the furniture, put away our possessions, and painted the walls. She had painted the walls herself along with my help. Mother even let me pick the colors and what patterns we would paint them. The kitchen had light green walls with leaves painted on them, the living room had cream walls with painted birch trees that went all the way up to the ceiling, and my room had light blue walls with doves painted around the trim. My mother kept her room simple but she did add some grey clouds to the white walls.

Our little cottage was perfect, it was our personalities combined into one building. By the time we were done with it, it looked completely different from when we walked in for the first time. It was full of life and color, some could say it was odd, but to my mother and I, it was home.

One Saturday afternoon, my mother had just finished teaching me how to bake cookies when there was a knock on the door. I stood behind my mother as she opened the door, there was a woman and four girls standing there. 

"Hello! I'm Margaret March, these are my daughters, Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy. We live about a good 10-minute walk to your left." 

My mother replied with a smile. "Oh, lovely to meet you! I'm Fiona Jansen and this is my daughter Eliza." I peeped behind my mother to wave at them, three of the girls waved back while one of them giggled. "Come in out of the sun! It's quite hot today." My mother invited as she opened the door wider, I noticed her hands were shaking again, was she feeling sick again? These past few weeks have been exhausting and I would imagine it's taken its toll on her...