I was stumbling around the internet when I came upon a site with photos and descriptions of children who were working in America during the period of 1908 - 1912. The page I'm referring to is part of The History Place. To think what so many children missed, namely childhood; they had to endure a world of hardship and suffer at the hands of greed long before their minds were prepared to do this. The accompanying text to one photo moved me to tears when I really thought about it. She was asked her age. "I don't remember. I'm not old enough to work, but do just the same." The full text implies to me she was not whithered and miserable, but this does not help me.
I remember how I counted my age in half years. I remember how eager I was before each birthday, thrilled that I could soon announce to everyone that I was a year older, and wondering what presents I might get. I remember how so often I'd complain to my mother that I was bored, even though I had 50 things I could do. I remember how I didn't work in a coal mine.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
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