August 20, 1852
Dear Journal
I have received you for a birthday present, but I think it is for a double reason. Papa says this way I can keep memories of all the places we visit and perform. I think he also means for me to practice my spelling, handwriting, and grammar without him nagging me about my lessons. So I will try to make him happy and use this journal to do those things.
My name is Christine Marie Daae. I was born August 20, 1843 in Vaxjo Smaland. I am 9 years old today! My papa and I are in France now. Papa is a great violinist! He is the best musician ever! He teaches lessons to the rich people's children and plays concerts for them too. Sometimes I get to sing, but not often. Cause Papa says little girls need not stay up so late. But I am 9 now! Plus dear journal, Papa doesn't know that sometimes I sneak out of bed and watch from the servants entry. Betsy the maid saw me once. She didn't punish me but did sneak me a piece of fruit tart. Sometimes it is fun to be bad.
Happy Birthday to me!
Christine
P.S. After this entry I will call you Lotte after my favorite story! I like that so much more than silly Dear Journal.
August 24, 1852
Dear Lotte,
It has been so hot lately! I was small when we left Sweden, Mama died when I was four. But I remember the cold! I wish we had some here. Even near the sea as we are, summer seems to want to roast us like one of Cook's dinners!
Speaking of dinner- I got to go on a picnic today! Professer Valarus said it was too hot to eat indoors and we should all go picnic at the seaside. So off we went-Proffserr and Madame Valerrus, Monsieur and Madame Granville and their two children, Papa, and me. (The Granvilles are cousins of Madame V.)
There was more wind at the beach than the house. We had to way down the edges of the blanket so it wouldn't blow everywhere. We ate cheese and bread and pickles and some of the best berries. The grownups said we could run and play as long as we stayed where they could see us.
Sand makes it hard to run fast. But at least it is softer when you fall down. I am a clumsy girl Lotte!
Hopefully we will go the beach again tomorrow. It is easier to forget that it is hot when you are having fun.
Love,
Christine
Author's Note: Please forgive the deliberate mistakes in spelling/grammar. Having taught for many years, I know the writing techniques of nine year olds are not quite up to publishing standards, but it allows for some realism (hopefully). As the story progresses so shall her writing skills. Thank you for taking the time to read this.