Prologue:

In the spring of 1865 in Nova Scotia, Bertha Willis Shirley, 9 months pregnant with a girl, kissed her husband Walter as they rested on the verandah in the moonlight. They had been married a year before when she was 17 and he, 18, and they still loved each other as much as ever. What could be more romantic than a night out with a lover after an exhausting day of teaching while awaiting the birth of their first child?

"You know," Bertha, young and beautiful despite her growing belly, smiled up at her husband, breaking the silence. "The doctor said she's due tomorrow and we still haven't decided upon a name."

Walter, stroking her hair, replied, "Well, I was kinda thinking of calling her Anne. It's a nice, simple name, and sensible at that."

"Anne Shirley," said Bertha dreamily. "I love it, Walter. It sounds beautiful." She then imagined the red headed little girl in two braids running around the house in the years to come and her joy couldn't be more complete. Her grey-green eyes simply shone with them as she looked at her red headed husband who was pondering the same thing. No one knew of the things to come which brings up most of the wonder in imagining. It was also a good thing because 3 months from now, the worst is yet to come as the young family was to be torn apart.

They snuggled together for a few minutes more under the blue-violet sky, diamond-like stars, and full moon before going back inside. Indeed, what could be more perfect?

At the crack of dawn, Anne was born in the east gable with, as her mother later said, greeting the sunlight that rose on her face. Born also, was a young, blossoming family with proud father Walter standing by her side. "She's beautiful," exclaimed Bertha. After months of preparation, the day has finally arrived.

XxXxXxXxXx

That afternoon, Mrs. Thomas came to visit. She was an, austere middle aged woman with hair tied tightly in a bun and a very good friend of Bertha. She previously had four children of her own which wore her out over the years, for they ran wild and undisciplined all day long. Adding to her burden was her husband's insatiable craving for alcohol and he was often home late at night completely drunk. He was okay when sober, but was inexcusably violent when not. She envied the Shirleys because they seemed to have everything they want, penniless as they were in their teaching jobs.

As Bertha was serving tea in the parlor, Mrs. Thomas asked to see the baby. As a mother of gossip as well as of 4 children, she knew well ahead of time that Anne was due that day.

"Certainly, m'am," replied Bertha. "She's upstairs sleeping but I'll wake her."

As she brought Anne down, Mrs. Thomas looked over the child and said sharply, "What a pity she's the homiliest young thing I've ever seen!"

Bertha, displeased as she was by the snide comment, refrained from saying something rude back. Instead, in her half smile, she replied, "I'm sorry you feel that way."

Mrs. Thomas threw her hands up in exasperation and retorted, "Don't patronize me, Bertha. You know full well that she's not like any other children. Look at how thin and sickly she is. I doubt that thing will live to grow up."

"It isn't up to you to criticize my child, Sarah!" Bertha shouted in her rare display of temper. "She is no more sickly than the rest of us. And even if she doesn't live very long, at least God gave me a gift of the little time I get to be her mother!"

Mrs. Thomas, mortified that a pretty young girl like Bertha would dare take up her elders in that manner, got up to leave. "Well if it isn't the Willis temper. I reckon the child will grow up to be exactly like her mother. Good day to you!" With that, she gathered up her stuff and swept out the door.

The next day, while Walter went shopping, Bertha made her trip to the Bolingbroke school board. "Excuse me, Mr. Carstenson," she inquired to the tall dark haired man.

"What do you want?" he asked curtly. He usually wasn't overly friendly but today, he was in a particularly dire mood after a divorce from his wife, which was extremely rare in those days.

"Well, I just had a child and I wonder if I could maybe I could have an extended leave." Nervously, she glanced at her watch.

Mr. Carstenson exploded. "Where the hell am I supposed to find someone to cover for you? What am I supposed to do with these students, teach them myself?!" Shaking his finger at her, he growled, "All you think about is yourself, woman."

"Fine!" she shouted back. "Consider this my resignation!" After that, she stalked off back home, hardly believing what she had just done. Well, she thought, at least I'll have more time with Anne.

Two months later

"Dear Walter,

"I hope your bussiness trip to Prince Edwards Island went pretty well. I, for one, am enjoying my cozy home back in Bolingbroke. Anne is simply blossoming. Each day with her gets even better than the last. I like her best when she's asleep and better still when she's awake. And her hair is red, just like her father's. I feel morose at the prospect of of having to let her go someday. I could imagine taking her shopping for a wedding gown and you escorting her down the aisle. She'd make a lovely bride. There I go again, getting too far ahead of myself. Her childhood should be as much enjoyable as the prime of her life, although in a different way.

"Mrs. Thomas and I still haven't been speaking since she made such a snide comment about our daughter. She's not sickly, but simply thriving. And I can't stand anyone calling her homely because she's not. I passed her in the market with her group of noisy children and she just glared at me, saying, 'I trust that you're managing well alone without that redhead you had the guts to marry.' I looked ahead w/o a word and simply kept walking but I had the burning urge to slap her. That's a shame because we used to be such good friends. Maybe we should reconcile one of these days if I could work things out with her.

"Well, I shouldn't keep you too long. We'll both need a good night sleep if we're to get through another day.

"Love, Bertha."

From that first letter addressed to Walter, a dozen more letters had been exchanged between them before Walter returned. However, a dire tragedy is about to be swept over the young family that would change the life of Anne forever.

One month later

Bertha Shirley was supposed to pay back the money Mrs. Carstenson lended her and was expected to at 12 noon. However, she had not arrived and Mrs. Carstenson, visibly annoyed at the irresponsible girl, made a trip to the Shirley household. Knocking thrice w/o anyone answering, she shouted, "Will it kill you to open the door?!" She then forced the door open and grew concerned at the errie silence. What could possibly go wrong?

"Bertha!" she called with a twinge of anxiety in her voice. "Walter! Hello?" She opened the door to the master bedroom to find both of them dead. She screamed loud enough to wake the dead as the neighbors came running.

"What's wrong?" asked Mrs. Thomas.

"Are you blind?" cried Mrs. Carstenson. "The Shirley couple is dead!" She then broke into tears. "How am I supposed to get my money now?"

"Shut up!" yelled Jane Dellon, 16, who took over for Bertha as a school teacher. "Some of the town's most respected people died of consumption and all you care is the money. Why don't you just step off?"

Mrs. Carstenson suddenly remembered. The Shirley couple hadn't been themselves the past few days. They rarely left their bed and even more rarely ate anything. Everyone noticed something was wrong but refused to let themselves believe that they could be this sick. And now they're gone and there was nothing to be done. Then, she said, "What should we do about the baby?"

A stunned silence fell over everyone. Indeed, though she was quiet throughout the whole ordeal, Anne was the sole surviver of the family in Bolingbroke and people remembered that. She was also, as of the day before, an orphan. And Bertha's dream of taking her shopping for a wedding dress went up in flames. What should be done about Anne?

Mrs. Thomas went around town with her the next day trying to find a family to take her in. However, everyone seemed to be thinking up excuses of not wanting her, especially the cliche, "I have enough of my own arleady," even when they had only one. Dejected and alone while her husband was out getting wasted, she finally decided to take in the child after several hours of deliberating.