Uncle Seve was on his knees carefully pruning the cucumbers. Nellie was deadheading roses and singing softly to herself as she worked.
“Nellie, go see what Rex is barking at.” Uncle Seve’s dog
was in the back corner of the yard where old flower beds waited for vegetables
next year.
Nellie walked along the back fence to stay in the shade.
She could see Rex standing in one of the beds.
“Rex! What are you doing?” she asked. The dog looked at
her and then started digging down into the weeds and grass. Nellie stepped up
next to the dog.
“What do you see?” She gently moved the dog over a bit.
Something was there, a box maybe, something shiny. Yes, a little metal box not much
bigger than her hand.
Nellie lifted it from the dirt. While it had some dents
and scratches, it didn’t have any rust.
“Uncle Seve! Look what I found.” Nellie trotted over to
her uncle.
“Well, that is very strange. What in the world?”
“Rex found it. Can we open it?”
“Might as well.” Uncle Seve used his garden scissors to
cut the strap holding the box closed.
“Wow!” he said. He tipped the box toward Nellie. “Look at
that.”
Inside was a gold locket on a very thin chain. It looked
brand new.
“Wow” said Nellie. “It’s beautiful!”
Uncle Seve took out the locket and handed it to her.
“That belonged to your great-great-great-grandmother, but it has been missing
for 15 or 20 years. How in the world did
it get out there, I wonder.”
Nellie held the locket in her hand. “Can I wear it?” she
asked.
“Absolutely.”
She gently pulled it over her head and ponytail and down
around her neck.
“Looks good, Nellie. I think you should have it.”
“Thank you, Uncle Seve!”
“Finished with the roses?”
“Not yet.” Nellie picked up her garden shears and went back
to the roses in the corner.
While she cut the brown petals, her left hand held on to
the locket. She felt a sort of warm feeling in her heart. Nellie smiled, a real
piece of jewelry, a golden locket, a very old locket.
Nellie closed her eyes. She felt kind of funny. Kind of
tingly. She felt herself swaying back and forth a bit. It was a little like
being on a boat. Yes, a big boat. With lots of other people.
She was wrapped in a big winter coat and a scarf. All the
other people were wearing coats and hats and gloves. It was that cold. And she
could look out and see the ocean and the waves and the clouds.
Where was she going? Who were these people? She took pink
wool gloves out of her pocket and put them on.
Suddenly it began to snow and some people started singing
a Christmas song. Nellie could hear herself singing along with them—“Hark the
Herald angels sing!”
A young sailor walked by, calling to the people standing
on the ship’s deck, “Tomorrow you will be in America!” He smiled at her. “Yes,
Marie, tomorrow you will be in America.”
America at last, she thought. A new home, a new life. All
these miles. Crossing the ocean. She could feel how excited they all were. Even
the sailors.
“Nellie. Nellie!”
“What? Oh, yes, Uncle Seve.”
“You still with me?” Uncle Seve smiled at her. “What was
going on in that head of yours?”
“What was her name?” She held out the locket.
“Why she was Marie Rose Kennedy. From Ireland.”
“How did she get here?”
“Well, I don’t know the whole story, but she came by
herself when she was 19. Came by boat, I know that.”
Nellie laughed. “Well, I already knew that, Uncle Seve.”
Uncle Seve shook his head and laughed, too. “You’re a
funny girl, Nellie.”
Nellie gave the locket another little squeeze and began
clipping the roses again.
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