For most of the country, 1970 was a year of upheaval and change, but in the house on Lilly Drive, everything was orderly and quiet. Inside, ten-year old Rose Hale sat on a cold wooden floor, playing with her dolls.
Her grandma sat in her rocking chair by the fireplace, doing needle point. She made hundreds of samplers, most of which quoted the Bible.
And grandpa... well, he couldn't help being quiet. Ever since his stroke, he just stayed in bed.
Rose reached for her yellow-haired doll. Humming very quietly, she made her dance to 'Daydream Believer'. Halfway through the song, there was a knock at the door. It was such an eunxpected sound that Rose paused her playing and looked up. No one ever came to visit.
Gran put her needlework in the bag by her chair and got up. When sh eopened the door, there as a long silence; then she said, "Oh my."
Rose heard something weird in her gran's voice. Peering sideways, she was a tall woman with long messy hair and a smile that wouldn't stay in place. She was one of the prettiest women Rose had ever seen.
"Thass not much of a meeting for your long-lost daughter." the lady pushed past Grandma and walked straight to Rose, then bent down. "Is this my little Rosalie Lillian?"
daughter? That meant-
"Mommy?" she whispered in awe, afraid to believe it. She'd waited so long for this, dreamt of it: her mommy coming back.