HARSH TIMES (Clodagh Cotter)

Smoke swirled around the small cramped kitchen. People filled the room from corner to corner. Some even stood outside in the rain. The village doctor stepped silently out of my mother and father’s bedroom. He shook his head and went to shake my mother’s hand. He then left the room. My mother fell to her knees and tears ran down her face. Then next thing I knew I was watching my father being put into the ground. I was eight at the time and the oldest.

From then on I helped my mother care for my younger brothers and sisters. There were seven of us and the youngest was four months old, and now was like history was repeating itself. The children were herded into the bedroom it was small with two single beds a bag stuffed with hay (which I slept on) and an old wooden cot. All seven of us slept here. An hour later Mrs O’ Shea a neighbour called me out. I closed the door behind me so the little ones couldn’t hear. Mrs O’ Shea looked at me, her pale face had deep grooves from age, her eyes began to fill with tears. I knew what she had to say but she said it anyway. “Your mother’s dead” she held my hand and squeezed it tightly.

She brought me to my mother. I opened the door slowly. She lay still on the bed. At the bedside there were wild flowers. She looked pale but at peace. I felt her hand it was icy cold. After that they took her away. I made my way back to my brothers and sisters. They sat in the room looking so confused. I explained how “mummy had gone to live with daddy and Holy God for a little while and that if we do as God asks we will see her again some day”. Mrs O’ Shea stayed with me for most of the night and even offered to stay the whole night but I suggested that she go home. That night was the first night I was on my own, alone, without my mother to comfort me. I sat on the grass outside my house. Strangely when it rained I didn’t mind. It was as if the sky could feel my pain.

I watch the rain chase the leaves down the dirt path. It was then that I realised I was the new mother, I was responsible for the safety of my brothers and sisters at the age of only thirteen. I watched my mother and helped her raise the household but I was on my own now. The first couple of months were hard. But over time I got used to it. I got up early every morning and made the kids their breakfast, bathed them and played with them. Whenever I had free time on my hands I would have to sell what little vegetables we had to spare in order to make money. The little ones grew to get used to it too. Things were finally looking up.

Then one day things began to change again. The sun was high in the sky. I was working in the garden when Connor came running up the garden path his chestnut hair blowing in the breeze as he ran. He dropped his kite and stumbled before he finally reached me. He spoke too quickly for me to hear him. “Slow down” I said stopping what I was doing. He caught his breath and started again. We had very little money and struggled most days to survive.

“Its Niamh” he puffed. I stood up dusting the earth from my tattered dress. Connor grabbed me by the hand and led me to the end of the road. Where I saw the four of my brothers standing around my sister Niamh. They moved out of the way as I approached them. Niamh was lying on the ground. Her face looked so fragile and breakable. She looked paler than usual her pale blue eyes stared at me, pleading with me to help her. I lifted her up to get her inside, she as light as a feather and as thin as paper.

We made as far as the end of our house. Niamh grabbed my arm. I could barely feel it. Knelt on the ground, I stared into her eyes. I could see the light getting dimmer and dimmer until finally the light was gone completely. I said nothing to my brothers. I held her in my arms I could feel the bones in her little arms as the blood began to stop flowing, her body felt colder and colder. Another family member in the ground. I felt I was failing everyone. I tried to keep everyone together but obviously I couldn’t do that. Not by myself but with Teagann only a baby. She needed full time care as well as the boys. Where would I get the money to feed my family?

Even worse my only source of support was gone as well. Mrs O’ Shea had left for England a week earlier. I felt helpless. I thought and thought over a number of months what I could do to help. Finally one day I made a heart breaking decision. A married couple who lived not far away from my house were emigrating to America to find work and escape starvation from lack of food. On the Saturday I met the couple and handed over Teagann (1yr), Tadgh (7yrs), and Sean (8yrs) Michael (9yrs) and Steven (10yrs). It broke my heart. I could feel the tears building in my eyes as my little family cried when they walked away, but no I wouldn’t cry, I promised myself I wouldn’t cry. I had to be strong for them.

Of course none of them wanted to leave but it was for the best as they would have a change to survive now. Colin, the oldest of the boys was now thirteen stayed with me as he was old enough to help out with the vegetable patch and help Mr O’ Sullivan, an old farmer who lived nearby. Anything to get money. I even resorted to robbing bread from the local market and maybe one or two potatoes, three if no one was watching the stall. One night I was walking home when a tall muscular man approached and asked if I wanted to make a few shillings. Of course I would do almost anything to feed myself and Colin. Except what he wanted me to do. I was eighteen, not married and still a virgin.

I stood my ground and said no but he had other ideas. After the attack I felt dirty and unwanted. I hauled myself out of the alley and salt tears ran down my cheek and I couldn’t stop them falling. It was like a dam had burst and the water couldn’t be stopped until it ran its course. From the dark a hand was offered to me I didn’t know who it was. I didn’t care. I was pulled up to face a tall man with dark hair. His eyes were mesmerizing, a piercing green. He was very handsome and he wanted to help me, but I couldn’t feel excited. I had gone numb from everything that had happened. I could hear a voice mumbling in the background.

“Are you ok miss” he asked. I just nodded “where do you live? I’ll take you over there. Are you sure you're alright?”

By the time I had pulled myself together it was morning. The man had told me his name. It was Liam and he had moved from the south to our little dying village. He stayed with Colin and me for awhile and he offered to earn his keep by helping Colin and me in any way he could. In time I grew to trust him and I finally told him about my family and why I had to send them away, and what happened the night we had met. He played with Colin and helped with the garden and often told me to relax. After Liam arrived the numbness started to disappear and something new took its place, something which I had never felt before. I tried to ignore it. It never went away. It wasn’t long before I realised he felt the same.

A month later while working in the garden Liam again told me to relax and go for a walk with him. I looked at Colin and he nodded and smiled slyly which I thought was odd. Liam and I went for a walk up the hills where you could see the village. We were surrounded by trees that seemed to stretch for miles. I sat in a sea of blue bells. It was there that Liam asked me to marry him. I smiled and said yes. That night I poked out my mothers wedding dress. It was beautiful snow white after all these years and was a perfect fit. Liam had planned to go to England to live. He wanted his future wife and brother-in-law to go with him. At first I wasn’t sure but at least we would have a better life there. I don’t care where I go just as long as Colin and Liam are happy. And, who knows?, hopefully there will be no more harsh times.