This Little Piggy

A child's heart clashes with reality.

It seemed to Lily that every holiday in her childhood involved either visiting her sister, Lillian Ann’s grave or receiving a pet she would never see grow to maturity.

 

   Easter Sunday was a long day as were all holidays at Lily’s house. First, there was the prolonged activity of going to St. James Church. Her mother perceived that the entire running of the alter guild and the church were her territory. Everyone deferred to her and she had to run the show. 

 

   After Sunday school, all the smaller children would hunt eggs. Lily was usually accompanied by her father as her mother was busy being in command.  When they would return home there would be another egg and basket hunt involved with Lily’s younger brother. Her mother’s only contribution to this activity would be screaming at Lily not to get my shoes or dress dirty and supervising her brother. Lily’s Dad took the necessary photograph’s to document the activities of the day.  As soon as this chore was completed the baskets of candy and eggs would be confiscated and held for ransom. The only way Lily was ever going to get to eat any of it was not to screw up for the next two weeks.  

 

  Moreland Cemetery is an old-fashioned cemetery in Baltimore City. Her father would drive through the entrance, through the huge brick pillars with curly wrought iron gates. At the crest of the driveway, the road went to the right or left, they always drove to the right meandering down a long gentlely slopping road. The grave makers are bronze and recessed in the ground. There were many great trees and azalea bushes planted around old wooden benches.  The Cemetery resembled a beautiful garden of quiet hidden away in a busy city.  They would park the car on the side of the road, and walk across the grass to the grave. Her sister’s plaque seemed so sad to Lily. On the right hand side of the plaque is a relief of Mary and her little lambs, on the left it read, ~ Lillian Ann, born July 6th, 1944 ~ Beautiful Daughter of Corinne and John ~ Died July 17th, 1945. Her mother would place the flowers she had brought with her in the recessed urn and complain about the condition of her grave. Every single time we would go, she would say it was sunk in, or there were weeds, or the bronze was turning green. Lily’s Mom would eventually tell her, “You’re named after your dead sister.”  It seemed best to Lily not to respond to her Mother's statement. It made her feel uncomfortable, and she didn’t know what to say. After all Lily was only six years old.   She never knew how she should feel about that, being named after a dead baby. Lily usually got the little kid creeps. Later she would think how unfair to Lillian Ann to have been replaced so casually. 

  

  After they returned to the car to leave, Lily’s’ mother would make her Dad stop at the office of the cemetery, so she could complain and throw her weight around. Her father would just sit quietly in the car with us never saying a word.  By this time, the sun would be setting, and they would finally drive out of the city. The joyfulness of the day always disappeared in the silence of the car ride back home.

 

  On the Easter of 1955 the family did not go into Baltimore for the day visiting. After Lily and Robert had found their eggs and baskets, her mother showed her a special gift in the chicken house. There in a corner of the shed was a wooden box with a small piglet. Lily was so excited to have a baby animal as a pet, even if it was a pig. Her Mother would not allow her to have a kitten so a pig was better than nothing. Lily would be responsible for feeding him and making sure he had water. When he was bigger, Jim Hurse built a large enclosed pen adjoining the chicken house. Piggy was very clean and never went near one corner of the pen where his bathroom was. She would spend hours with her books and Piggy. As spring turned to late summer, Lily could even ride him; she always made sure to wear her Dale Evans Cowgirl boots when she did. 

 

   Piggy was her first stop when she would get off the school bus each afternoon. One crisp clean October afternoon when Lily got off the school bus her Mother was at the bus stop. When she inquired as to why she was waiting for her, she was told, “You need to come into the house first; I have something I need to tell you about regarding Piggy.”

  They walked silently the short distance to there yard and then down the driveway. Lily was looking at the chicken house all the while. She could not see Piggy in the pen. Once in the house she was directed to sit at the white enamel kitchen table. Lily had a very bad feeling that something had happened to her friend.

 

  “You know that Jim Hurse bought Piggy didn’t you?  And we were just keeping the pig for him until he could come to get him.”

 “No, no, you did not tell me anything like that. You said he was mine. I got him for Easter!” she was pleading to her and tears were beginning to well up in her eyes.

  “Well that’s just too bad; Jim came and got him while you were at school. They are going to take him to the butcher, and he will be made into pork chops. That is what is done with pigs, they are not pets.  Go and change out of your school clothes and get started on your homework.” Her Mother turned her back to her and picked up a potato and began peeling it.  Lily knew she would not be taking Piggy the peels tonight.