Remembering People that I Helped

Everyone remembered me as “the Little Betty Helper Jones”. I was all over the place. Mama had to work in a factory during the day, so I would help clean up and prepare for dinner during the night. There wasn’t much to do, cleaning supplies were limited and so were food supplies, so during the day I would walk around and see if our neighbors were doing okay. I quit school at the age of 7 because mama thought it was too dangerous. She didn’t want me to loose my childhood and wanted me to be safe. Everyone was wearing gas masks everywhere they go; it was as if walking in and out of home was like walking into a death trap. Baker David taught me to quickly fall flat on the floor or run to the nearest home. Baker David was a nice, old man. His son went into war, so I helped out sometimes, at the same time, earning mamma and I some free bread or money. He couldn’t do much, so I helped him stacked boxes and make some dough. I tried my best to cheer him up, but when I realized that I may not get to see my papa, brother or Uncle Benny again, there wasn’t much positivism in me. I used to turn to my teacher, Ms. Lauren for encouragement, but even she was miserable on the inside. Ms. Lauren was my old teacher, but since her brother left for war, she has been a gloomy mess. She tries very hard to stay as positive as possible, but I can always see her cry in the corner of the street, asking why this is happening. I would occasionally help clean up around her house, because she’s too devastated about what has happened. Many boys older than me left as well. I don’t know exactly where they went, but mama said they were helping out. It wasn’t until I was 12 years old, when I realized that it was my turn to take part in a national registration for war service. As I saw the young men leave, many mothers were crying. Luckily, I didn’t have to leave mama. I stayed and taught younger kids, kids who were 5 or 6, how to use gas masks. During World War 2, I can only describe everyone under three simple words: worried, angry, sad. Throughout this time, it made me realize that no one was safe. At any time, a bomb could possibly give us a surprise attack.