I wish I could say that Mama and I lived happily ever after and nothing ever troubled us again, but that is only true in heaven and fairy tales, and then only at the very end, and usually after a great deal of misery.
On the whole, things were very nice. Certainly I never lacked time to read or study or help Mama with her work, and never had to hurry from one thing to the next. Between the improvements to our home and Holle's gifts, we felt ourselves to be living in luxury, and with time and industry, our situation only continued to improve. Thus we gained more notice from our more respectable neighbors, who now praised my drawing and embroidery and offered me further music lessons. When I returned to school, the teacher, Miss Davis, was very kind, and most of the older girls were friendly enough, and for the first time, I found myself invited to a number of little parties and picnics and sewing circles.
Still, I had never found it easy to make friends, and it was no different now. I had formerly resigned myself to always being overlooked and alone, and rather liked to imagine myself as being utterly invisible, observing the joys and sorrows of the world while remaining comfortably detached from it. But now with so much attention, I found myself growing increasingly self-conscious.
There were always a few, some idle, gossiping, envious souls, who never seemed to forget, or let me forget, that I was only a charity case, after all, and though I tried to ignore them, I could hardly help feeling it was true, questioning the genuineness of every kindness and favor I was shown, and wondering whether anyone really liked me, or only tolerated me out of pity. If I did well in class, I was sure to hear whispers that I was showing off or snide remarks about how I must have cheated, and if I made mistakes on purpose, they laughed even more. One day, the word mercenary came up in a lesson, and as Miss Davis explained it for the younger children, I saw a few glance in my direction, and Myra Jones whispered to Jane Peters that her mother would never let her go off with a complete stranger for a whole month, but some people would do anything to get ahead in the world.
No doubt Mama had her share of unkind looks and cutting remarks as well, but she only smiled and said they must be jealous. I could hardly see why they would be. We were certainly comfortable, but still far from rich. Though Mama no longer had to clean houses, we still took in washing and sewing, and while she may have spoken highly of my newfound accomplishments, as she called them, I am sure as I never put myself forward, people might have excused it as only a little example of maternal partiality. Furthermore, I knew for a fact that as Holle and I worked our way through the town, I had not neglected anyone, but taken great care to do as I would be done by to all, and would have done more if I had thought it would make any difference. Yet envy is bitter and hardly rational, and there are some who cannot stand to see even the slightest success in anyone but themselves.
I said as much in a letter to Holle, and a few days later received an encouraging note in return, in which she first cautioned me against trying to do too much.
Take care that your blessing doesn't become a curse to those you are trying to help, she wrote. For when people are long idle, they tend to grow lazy, and then they are very apt to become ungrateful.
I could almost see her smile sadly as she continued, We can't save the world, dear. Believe me, I've tried. We can only do the work that we see before us. What's more, you can't please everyone, and you were not given this gift so you could toil your life away trying to do the impossible.
She urged me to not to be weary in well doing, and repeated her promise to come visit soon.
I turned fourteen the thirtieth of April, and the following day, there was a grand May Day celebration the next town over, which ended with a dance. One of our neighbors had secured us an invitation and offered us the use of his carriage, so we arrived in style, and though we were dressed rather simply compared to most of the other guests and hardly knew anyone, we nevertheless had a fine time, taking in the lovely music and decorations, including thousands of flowers and hundreds of lanterns, and not a little of the food, quiches and cakes and such.
The biggest surprise of the evening came when a gentleman asked Mama to dance. He was tall, neither old nor young, with dark hair and a mustache, and very elegantly dressed in a sort of uniform. I thought at first that he must have been confused and mistaken her for someone else, for he was plainly a very illustrious person, yet our host assured me that he was well aware of our situation and highly impressed by our success. It was all very exciting, but I little thought then what would come of it.
Not sure if this is an improvement, and it might take a while to complete since I'm also working on another story, but I am planning on expanding what I had, including adding a storyline I had previously cut.