Thursday, November 19, 2015

The Girl from Bridge Street




When I was young I lived in a small town with small town people with petty ideas about who was OK and who wasn't.

So those who lived across in Bridge Street were somehow not like us for there was a class divide except that Maisie Young was in the same class as me at school and when I looked at her she looked right back at me and smiled.

I used to walk her home and once over the bridge with the river running below I dared to hold her hand for it was soft and warm and that put a smile on both our faces.

It was my brother that told on us to my Dad who shook his head and I looked across at Ma who for some reason was looking down not saying a word as Dad raved on about finding a better class of girl to walk home with.

Later on as I was helping her with the dishes, putting them away and sorting out the cutlery she whispered to me, "I came from Bridge Street son, your Dad has forgotten that.

Childhood romances don't often last and that was such a long time ago but even today I think of her and wonder what lucky man married her.


Image found at www.picturesofengland.com

9 comments:

  1. How delightful, and love the photo.

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  2. Dvision indeed! This made me think of The Wonder Years!

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  3. What a great story - so poignant and beautiful. And you've told it beautifully as well. The picture is just perfect.
    Your second paragraph, especially, is exquisite - "...expect that Maisie Young was in the same class as me...and when I looked at her she looked right back at me and smiled." Gorgeous.

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  4. Wonderful sweet memory of both Masie and your mom!

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  5. Wonderful sweet memory of both Masie and your mom!

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  6. Well told. You've shown how such division has to be planted into the minds and hearts of people without preaching a sermon.

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  7. hey man, killin it with the Division prompt!

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  8. That water divided much more than the street. Lovely photo and sweet read. Those what if memories are the best.

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  9. Great story that brought back memories of my own childhood and similar issues. The friend my parents frowned upon has grown up to be such a wonderful person, and somehow in my heart I always knew that they were wrong! We definitely had a "wrong side of town" in the little town where I grew up, and I think often about how unfair that was to the kids who lived there.

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