Mary Beekman is a four-year-old ghost who resides in The Beekman Mansion, and considers Brent and Josh her “imaginary friends.” Follow Mary Beekman’s Diary each week to learn what it’s like to be a young child in early 19th century America
Today was just right for being outside, the sun was very warm……but not too hot. We spent long hours at church and it seemed to take unusually long returning home. I was eager to change my clothes and be outside with my rag dolly; under the trees and finding wee things to place in our play house. Josh and Brent will visit us. I never have to be concerned if anyone can overhear our conversations because I am the only one who can see OR hear them.
My older sister was sniffling a bit in the coach and I thought she was taking ill. Her eyes were very red and teary. It seems as though she is spending a lot of her time sniffling.
Mother told me I must not speak of a certain young man who used to greet Sister at church and sometimes walk with her around the church yard as we were preparing to leave. Mother said he and his family have moved from the area. I believe it was nearer to Albany. Brent told me he had noticed that Sister was rather silly when the young man was about. Josh made a snorting sound. I had not been aware of Sister and her young man at all. Perhaps I am too young. I merely giggled at Josh’s foolishness. There are times I think Brent is foolish also. He tells me to inquire about my lessons on a laptop. I do not know what that is. Then he laughs at me!
I wished to pick some flowers to give to Sister. They may help her to feel better. She loves flowers and is a very good gardner. Mother has been teaching her the names of the flowers and how to pick them, how to remove the flowers that have bloomed and how to dry and save their seeds for next year. Our house and gardens are not very old and we must save the seeds to increase our plantings. I found a beautiful flower and I knew Sister would be so pleased and surprised. It has brightly colored red flowers.
They almost droop to the ground. It would be so beautiful in a vase on the chest of drawers in her room. While she was brushing her hair……….many strokes EACH night…….I slipped into the room and placed the flowers. As I was tiptoeing out of the room, Sister began to wail, very loudly, “Oh, Mother, look what Mary has done.” Josh whispered to me that the name of the flower I had chosen was “love-lies-bleeding”.