It was her BIRTHDAY. Never in her young life had she had a birthday party. It had never been allowed. But her THIRST to have one was very great. She wondered why she could not be like the other children, and have a birthday party. It seemed that in every way her life was different to tat of the other children. She hated the difference. Her mother blamed it on lack of money, but Sadie was quick, and she noticed things. She didn’t believe her mother. But there was nothing she could do about it.
This birthday though, her eighth, she decided to kick up a fuss, and plead for a birthday part. She imagined kids sitting around a table, laughing and messing about happily, playing with balloons, etc. She imagined them singing “Happy Birthday” to her. The real thing. Just like the others.
It was now her seventieth birthday, and she sat with the photograph in her hand. Her mouth felt DRY, as it always did these days. She had a cup of tea on the little table beside her. In the photograph were three children. Herself and two others. They were all stood, in a row, holding hands, looking very glum and awkward together. Peggy reminisced. That had been her one and only birthday party. Her eighth. Not the kind she had imagined with lots of happy kids around a table. No, just three children who hardly knew each other. She didn’t even remember them singing “Happy Birthday” to her.
She was alone now. Alone in life. She lifted the cup to her mouth, sighing as she did so. How many more years of loneliness must she endure? A tear began to fall from her eye. But never mind. She had a good cup of tea here.