Letter Home

Newtown School

Immrama Travel Competition

Letter Home To Mother and to Father,

I have finally reached the Land of Dreams Brooklyn, to be exact. It was not what was I expecting. I am so sorry I’ve not written to you both since I arrived here on March 11th 1841. The current date is April 8th 1845. The cost of postage is like Mrs Murphy’s bread. Expensive! I am nearly there. Money is coming slowly these days working on the railway. The pay is low. I am working on thirty pence hour. I can barely live off it but I survived.   Brooklyn is advanced for its time. Well ahead on its factory and industrial work but there is a new fashion on the horizon. It could just change our world. The steam train. Ohh mother you just have to see them. They are big massive savages racing down the countryside at about sixty miles per hour. They are well faster than O’Toole’s horses and they go pretty fast. Some workers on what they call the railway are young, no older than eleven. I feel sorry for them. I remember that I had to fill up the train with this substance that was called “coal”. It was a black, rough, cold substance. One was very light but a pile is very heavy. I felt like I was going to get on well in the Land of Dreams!   I remember the horrendous journey across the rough Atlantic lurking into the unknown. Heading towards a new city, a new life and a new beginning. The ship had a terrible stench. It smelled of sad lives and body odour. When everyone was saying goodbye to their parents you could feel the emotion in the air. I remember the last words I said to you, “I love you” I still do!   My room is so small I can barely stand in it. My bed is half the size of my old one back home. Even though I wake up on the floor each morning I always have a smile on my face to start the day!   Saturday’s are the best day of the week. The one thing that keeps me in this land of dreams is the country market. It takes place every Saturday. Through the scorching heat and the miserable rain. Instead of the gloomy old Brooklyn. There was light to the air. There was a fresh smell of apple pies. My favourite stall was “Minora Ri na Ulla,” this is Irish for “King of the pies,” The owner was called Thomas he was from Ringville County Waterford. He always gave a pie half price and it always put a smile on my face. Oh, father, I can’t wait to see the smile on your face when you taste it!   The world has changed forever. As I am writing this I letter I received the saddest letter that one could ever get. The letter was informing me of your deaths. To my loving parents, I hope you find peace in heaven. I hope you found happiness, the happiness you failed to find down here. I am going to send this to Auntie Hazel and request to put this in your grave. No not in the coffin but under mother’s favourite flowers snowdrops. When the Winter comes around I shall remember the laughs and the cries. I’ll shall never weep or shed a tear.

I shall remember both of you Goodbye for now!

Your loving son….