by june

Created on: October 08, 2009

Rebecca

When I was about eight years old, we moved across town to a different neighborhood. I didn't know anyone and spent the first few weeks playing by myself. I rarely ventured away from the front porch but one day I walked down the street.

The neighborhood was made up of mainly Victorian style houses all two story wood framed houses most of which were painted white and had extensive gingerbread trim. They all had huge wrap around front porches and the street was lined with ancient oak trees. It was a very pretty street and most of the houses were very nice. One house on the street, however, was very dark looking. It needed painting and it looked like no one lived there. I stopped in front of the house and looked at it through the picket fence wondering why someone would leave a house to deteriorate like that.

About that time, I heard a soft voice, Hello, come here. I'm so glad that you came to play. I looked up and saw a girl about my age with the prettiest golden blonde hair I had ever seen. It was in long curls and tied with a blue ribbon that matched the dress that she was wearing. I thought to myself, She must be going to a party; she's dressed up so pretty. I wasn't one for dresses but even I had to admit that the dress was beautiful. It was blue and long with a white pettifore over it. I had never seen anyone dressed like that but she was so pretty.

I opened the gate and walked over to the side porch where she sat and said, Hey, why are you dressed up so in the middle of the day? Are you going to a party? She laughed and said, Of course not. This is my day clothes. You're funny. What's your name? My name's Rebecca. I told her my name was June and I had just moved in down the street.

She clapped her hands and said, I'm so happy that you are here. I've been so lonely and no one has come to play in such a long time. Come inside and we'll go up to my room to play. I have lots of dolls and a beautiful tea set and we can have tea. Won't your parents mind if I come in, I asked. But she was already running up the service stairs to the upper floor and calling for me to follow which of course, I did.

She certainly had not exaggerated about her doll collection and her beautiful china tea set. Her room was right out of a fairy tale and fit for a princess. I couldn't believe my eyes. I was thinking about my room at home which was so tiny and had only a bed and a dresser and a small stool. But I knew my mother had worked hard to provide that so I

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