Rachel

The little girl holding a doll stared out from the antique frame. She held the rag doll tightly in both arms. She and the doll were dressed in the same old-fashioned-style dresses. She had a slight smile and searching eyes.

Rachel had seen this image for as long as she could remember. She dusted it in the china cabinet on Saturdays and rarely gave it a second thought. But today when Rachel reached for the picture, she somehow knocked it from its place. Horrified, she watched it crash to the floor and scatter shattered glass.

The photograph had been folded inside the frame. Rachel carefully reached among the shards of glass to retrieve the heavy paper.

"Rachel? What happened? Are you hurt? What fell?" Rachels mom called with a slew of questions, without waiting for answers. Rachels mom was kind and willing to listen, and Rachel felt lucky to have such a good mom. Right now, though, she wasnt feeling lucky at all. She dreaded telling her mother about the broken picture.

As her mother entered the room, Rachel suddenly realized she didnt know who the girl in the picture was. She had always thought it was her grandmother, but suddenly she wasnt sure. Rachels mother knelt down and began placing pieces of glass into her hand. Her silence confused Rachel. She had expected her mom to yell or cry or something.

"I guess I wasn't watching what I was doing, Mom. I'm so sorry! I'll buy you a new frame" Rachel stopped, realizing her mother wasnt listening. Her mom just sighed, threw the glass in the kitchen trash on top of the egg shells from breakfast. Then stood looking down at the shells, glass and orange juice cans without moving. Finally, she turned and, smiling sadly, walked past Rachel toward her room, carrying the picture.

Rachel followed, apologizing again, but her mother didn't seem to hear her. Rachel felt helpless and alone. She started to cry. Rachel's mom slowly focused on her daughter and took her hand. She spoke slowly, as if reviewing a scene in her mind.

For more fun reading and other activities, try these Web sites:

   -- KBYU: Ancestors

   -- Education World

   -- Immigration: Stories of yesterday and today

"When this child began her journey to this country, she was a healthy young girl." She held the picture gently in her hand. "She couldn't wait to start a new life in America. She had left most of her family behind, expecting to join an older brother who had come several years before." Rachel sat down on the bed as her mother continued.

"On the last night of their journey, the ship suddenly hit some rocks. Most of the passengers drowned. Almost all their belongings were lost. The brother had come to the dock to greet his little sister. But all he found was the tragic news about a shipwreck."

Rachel hugged her mom's arm. "Who was the little girl in the picture? How did you know about her?"

Rachel's mom continued: "The brother at the dock was my grandfather. I never knew about this part of his life or even that he had a sister. He was just my grandpa. He seemed sad sometimes, but he never talked about his family." Rachel felt a lump in her throat at having caused this pain for her mother. "Your uncle and I went to Grampa's house after he died and found the remnants of his life. He had been a simple man, living a quiet life. I thought I knew most things about him, but there was a surprise. The only thing he'd treasured enough to lock away in his safety deposit box at the bank was an old folded cloth. Wrapped neatly inside were the picture, the child's letter and an old news clipping about the shipwreck. Your uncle has the letter and the news clipping in his safety deposit box, and I kept the photograph.

Rachel wanted to know more. "What did the note say?"

"It was a tender letter from a little sister to her brother, full of drawn hearts and written kisses. I wish Grampa had talked about her, but it must have been too sad for him. I've had the picture since before you were born."

"I'm so sorry I broke the frame, Mom. I wish I'd realized how important it was to you. I should have been more careful. Can you forgive me, Mom?"

"Of course. I don't really care that the picture frame is broken. The photo just brought back memories of my grandfarther. I should have told you about this picture before now," she said, giving Rachel a big hug. "You're my treasure, you know."

When Rachel went back to finish the cleaning, she thought more about each piece as she rubbed away the dust. She was sure everything in the cabinet had its own story. When she finished, she closed the cabinet and locked it with the antique key hidden under the chiming clock.

She returned to her mom, who was still sitting in the bedroom. "Mom, the girl in the picture ... What was her name?"

A single tear slid down her mothers cheek before she looked up and answered. "Her name was Rachel."

Copyright C 2004 Deseret News Publishing Co.
Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights Reserved.