For some, Old, but for some, Gold

65 years ago...

"Dear Martha, what on Earth are you doing? It's cold outside, yet you are still here!" her elder shouted.

"Dear sister, I am writing," she replied calmly and continued doing her activity.

"Writing what? About how disrespectful you are with your sister?" Edna kept bugging her. "Answer me, Martha."

"Can't you bug someone else? How about Leslie? Or...Julia? Maybe even little Charlie!" 

"I'm bugging you? Mother has ordered me to bring you back home! Martha, come on now, get inside." 

"No." Martha cooly replied. "Don't ask me again."

"Wh-what? Y-you cannot do that! Martha!" 

"I can't do what?" she asked.

"Stop fighting with me and come back this instant. You might catch a fever, or worse, get terribly sick! It is the flu season after all," she ordered and tried to reason with her little sister.

"Fine," Marth sighed. She gave up for good.

Her sister held her hand tightly and dragged her inside the home. There, she spotted Little Charlie making a mess while eating his food as usual. Leslie and Julia were screaming at each other, about who looks prettier. They had many dresses in their hand as they marched towards mother, asking her who looked prettier. Of course, Martha knew mother would not have time to be pulled into their nonsense. 

"Now, Martha, supper is ready," Edna said as she continued dragging Martha towards the kitchen.

"Martha! Doesn't this blue dress fit me better?" asked Julia.

"Well, yes, kind of. I mean this dress really matches your hair and makes your eyes pop." Martha replied truthfully.

Out came Leslie.

"Martha! Doesn't this blue dress match me better? Better than Julia?" Leslie asked Martha.

"You know, this dress really makes your skin seem so shiny! If you add a couple of accessories, it will look amazing on you!" Martha told the girl.

Edna interfered. "Girls! Why do you care about your dresses when we have something much more important things going on?"

"Get away Edna. You're so boring anyway. No one likes you because of your terrible and bossy personality." the twins replied.

"Sissy, I want more food!" Little Charlie came up to her and he started to pull Martha's dress to get her attention.

"Mama will help you, Little Charlie."

"MAMA!" he yelled and started crawling to the kitchen.

As Little Charlie went to the kitchen, Edna soon went to her room to clean up everything and get ready for supper. As for the twins, however, they got mad at each other and both went to eat their supper alone. 

When will I ever get my time alone to just...write!? Martha kept thinking.

Just as she was going inside her and Little Charlie's room, her mother finally caught her.

"Martha! I haven't seen you for a lot of hours! Where have you been girl? You know you're not supposed to sit outside! It's raining, and the winter is going to start soon. You know you can't fall sick." she scolded the girl.

"I know mother, it's just—never mind. May I eat something, mother?" she asked.

"Yes, and bring the others. Also, put Little Charlie asleep." 

"Fine," Matha replied boringly.

✺✺✺

After supper, everyone was getting ready to sleep.

Mother and father had gone to their own bedroom, Edna had her own room and she was probably sleeping by now. Martha could still hear the twins fighting over who was smarter than the other, which made her mad.

"Sissy, I'm not sleepy." Little Charlie told her, from his little bed.

"Come on, now, Charlie, sleep already! Tomorrow it's a big day for everyone! We're going to the market!" Martha exclaimed.

"But I cannot sleep, sissy," he replied with sadness. "How can I ever sleep?"

"Well, for one thing, just close your eyes and think about everything that happened today, ok?" she told Charlie, as she made her own bed.

"Sissy, c-can you t-tell me a story?" he asked.

"Nope." 

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"I said no, Charlie."

"Pretty please with sugar on top?" now, he had his puppy dog eyes, and Martha just couldn't resist it.

"Ok, fine, I'll tell you. But you have to promise me to sleep after this." Martha warned him.

"Thank you! Yes, Martha, I will," he replied, and she sighed.

Martha rubbed her cold, pale hands over his little head. She walked across the room and opened the drawer next to her bed. There laid her little notebook, filled with stories and poems she has written.

"Is that yours?" he asked.

"Well, yes, Charlie," she replied.

"That's so cool! It looks like there are a lot of stories in there! Oh, can you tell me one every night?" he pleaded.

"If you're a good little boy and listen to me, then I'll think about it," Martha replied, and the two siblings giggled.

Martha sat at the edge of his bed, opened her little notebook, and started reading her stories she had written.

The young girl had always loved to write stories. She especially favored stories where the characters were on an adventurous and dangerous quest. Trying to save the world. She loved when there were villains, witches, wizards, magic, and mythical beasts, such as dragons. Her mind was always racing with stories and so many ideas that if she could write all of her ideas, it would take twenty of those same books, just to fit all those words. 

But she also loved writing poems. Writing about nature, and everything she sees around her. She had already known what she wanted to do as a person in her life. The writing was her passion, her dream, and being an author meant the world to her. She is also the only person in her family who is a bookworm. Her little shelf next to her bed is stacked with books she borrowed from her library just a couple of days ago.

"Wow, that was a great story sissy!" replied the marveled Charlie.

"Thank you, Charlie. I just wish other people in this family would get it." 

✺✺✺

60 years ago...

"Martha, it's time for you to find a job. You are already fifteen years old! You have to take care of Charlie, Leslie, and Julia. Since your father passed away, our family is not getting much money. Edna's job as a stewardess is not giving us an ample amount of money." her mother advised her.

"Yes mother, I will go for a job as a newspaper and journalist writer," she replied.

"A writer? Why of course not! That is such a preposterous job! No way are you going to be a writer! Women shouldn't do that job. Join your sister, be like her." her mother advised her.

"No, mother, I cannot! I want to be a writer! I want to be an author! I want to publish newspaper articles, journals, magazines...everything! Please, mother, I want to become a big one!" she protested, pleading with her mother.

"I cannot let you bring shame to yourself, your dead father, your sisters, and me. You cannot bring shame to the family. You have to bring honor to the family."

"But–I can bring honor to the family by being a good writer! You just have to trust me mother, believe in me." she requested her mother.

"I am your mother, Martha. Respect me, and you will do good in life. Now, go out there and find a good job. Or else this family will become broke. Do you really want your sisters to go without any food every day?" she asked Martha.

Martha couldn't hold her tears. She cried and ran outside her house. She sobbed very hard and didn't even look back to see her mother, calling her name out for her. She just ran, holding her notebook and pencil. She wanted to become an author, and that is who she was going to be. No matter what anyone says about it.

She was going to follow her dreams.

✺✺✺

Present...

"Grandma!" Martha's grandkids were calling for her.

"What is it my children?" she asked them.

"What is that thing you are holding, and what are you writing with?" asked one of them.

"Oh, this is called a notebook, and I am using to write it with a pencil, my darlings," she explained to them, holding the two supplies up.

"But, we already have many high-tech laptops, smartphones, robots, and everything else to write with! We don't need those old-time supplies," they told Martha.

"My children, writing is my hobby, my passion. But I like to feel the words that I am writing, to touch the thing I am writing on. Yes, technology might have come and changed the world from using notebooks, but I cannot refuse to use them. I grew up with these two things. They are, in a way, my best friends. I just cannot live without them. They might be old to you, but for me, their value is as much as gold." Martha was explaining to the children.

~The End~