A Day In The Life of Abigail Lou
Sophie
Humanities
Fall 2015

On Sunday morning, I wake up to a sunrise. The golden sun is shining through my window. I gently pull the white covers off my cold body and let my legs dangle off the bed before letting my feet touch the cold floor. I look out the window, the bright sun burns my eyes but it doesn’t matter. I think of my father and how much I miss him. My dad died of disease when we arrived in America. I take a breath and look past the window, I fill my head with happier thoughts.
Once the sun warms me up, I hop out of bed. I meet my mother in the kitchen and smell the toast she is baking. She sets my plate down at our two person table and we eat. My mother and I are very close, but we don’t talk much in the morning, she and I are usually tired from the previous day. When we are through, I stand slowly and walk, barefoot across the floor. In my bedroom, I slip my church clothes on.
My mother walks into my room, and asks if I am ready to go. I reply by following her out the door and down the dirt road of Jamestown. I am careful not to get dirt on my nice clothes because mother will be angry and I won’t get my special treat after church. We arrive at the Anglican church and I skip up the stone steps.
“Abigail Lou! Behave yourself!” my mother would say but I saw the half hearted smile appear on her face. I giggle but quickly pull myself together and walk into the church. I sit down on the sunny warm side of the church, next to my mother. I sit silently and peacefully through the service. At the end of church, I quickly slip away from my mother and run towards the bakery. She follows after me, laughing as I wait for her on the cobblestone steps. As we walk into the bakery, I open my eyes wide so I can’t miss the view. I act as if I am looking for something new but my mom and I both know what I’m going to have. I just love the smell of everything, it makes me happy and reminds me of home. After smelling around so more, I decide on my usual and after we pay the friendly man at the counter, my mother and I walk hand in hand make home. We talk about Church and and share our treat together.