Excerpts from The Adoption Legacy:

Chapter One

Annie found herself in a very strange place. She could see a long line of cars winding their way down through the streets. But she couldn’t recognize where she was. None of the houses or stores looked familiar to her. It was a foreign country. She was sure of it.

The cars moved so slowly through the streets. Annie could see that one of the cars was a hearse. Who had died?

Gunshots rang out and there was blood everywhere. A handsome, young blonde man fell to the ground in front of Annie. She screamed. There were police everywhere, but Annie realized that they were dressed strangely. This couldn’t be happening in the United States. Annie had never seen police wearing uniforms like this. Where was she? What was happening?

Suddenly, the handsome blonde man reached up and took Annie’s hand in his. He said, “Don’t be afraid, Annie. I’ll always be with you. I love you. Find your mother and tell her I loved her very much.” With those words, the young man died.

Annie woke up in a sweat. She was having that dream again. What did it mean? Was it related to her desire to find her birthmother?

Just as every adopted child has heard since time began, Annie was told that she was ‘chosen’ and ‘special’. Of course, that was just find when she was only a little kid. As a matter of fact, Annie wouldmake the other kids run home crying, “Is it true that you were stuck with me?”. Annie would tell them that their parents had to take what they got, but Annie’s parents chose her from all the babies in the world. When Annie grew up, she realized that ‘chosen’ only meant you were adopted and not their natural child. That bothered her a lot.

Being adopted meant that your real mother gave you away. She had begun her life unwanted by her own mother and father. What flaw could she possibly have that was so horrible it made her own parents reject her? That question was never uttered, but it remained in the back of her mind always.

Annie Randall lived in New Rochelle, New York, but she didn’t begin her life there. Annie was born in London, England and she’d been adopted by a Jewish couple from America. So she knew she had British ancestry and sometimes it was really hard fitting in with her adopted family. She didn’t look like anyone in her family and people were always pointing that fact out to her. “Where’d ya get the shiksa (a female non-Jew)?”, they’d ask. People didn’t mean any harm by it - they had no idea that she was adopted. But it really bugged her just the same. It drew attention to the fact that she was different and Annie did not want to be different.

Annie loved her family very much. They were truly wonderful people. There wasn’t one person in her family that had ever made her feel like she was adopted. It was Annie, herself, that felt out of place.

She felt guilty when her thoughts wandered to who her biological mother might be. After all, she must be very ungrateful to even think about her ‘other’ family. She should be satisfied with the terrific family that took her into their hearts. Everybody said so.It was so hard to explain to people how she felt. She didn’t know anyone else who was adopted. In fact, for a very long time, Annie was convinced that she was the only child to ever have been adopted.

Annie was grateful for her good fortune. She knew that there were many children who never found homes. She also knew that there were kids who didn’t find ‘good’ homes and that was worse than no home at all.

She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about what the circumstances might have been that forced her birthmother to place her for adoption. Annie had a very creative imagination and she liked to fantasize that she was really a member of a royal family. She’d been kidnapped and her family would never stop searching for their lost daughter. Sometimes when the doorbell rang, she expected to see her long-lost family come for her at last. A part of her knew this wasn’t true, but another part told her it just might be. Isn’t it always the thought of the unknown that fascinates us the most?

The one constant theme in all of Annie’s fantasies was that her mother was forced to give her up. Annie had to believe that her mother would never have done it willingly.

Chapter Two

Annie’s father worked for a huge multinational corporation in New York City. Her mother stayed at home and took care of Annie and her two little sisters, Jayne and Dorothy. Jayne and Dorothy were five year old twins and her mother usually had her hands full keeping them out of mischief.

Jayne and Dorothy were her parents natural children. Her parents treated all of their children equally and Annie loved her little sisters very much.

Lately, Annie had trouble keeping herself busy. School was out for the summer and her friends had gone away to camp.

Annie’s father had recently found out that he was being transferred to the London office. It was a big promotion for him so they were all pretty happy about the move.

Annie was the happiest of them all. The only bit of information she’d been able to pry out of her parents about her background was that she was born in London, England. They only told her that because it was on her birth certificate anyway so it really couldn’t be kept secret. The certificate said: ‘Place of Birth: London, England; Date of Birth: October 28, 1980” and that was the only part of the certificate they couldn’t change. It was the only clue Annie possessed. Only another adopted person would understand how very important this news was to Annie. Being adopted is like originating from a test tube: you have no biological history or heritage. For non-adopted people this is no big deal because it’s information they’ve always had. It meant the world to Annie.

Chapter Three

Annie was going to be living in the country of her birth! She had every intention of making the most out of this good fortune. She might even find clues about her mother and father in London.

Annie’s mom and dad were worried about losing her if they told her about her biological family. Annie knew this was why it was so difficult for them to talk about her adoption. They truly felt that Annie was their very own child and no one else’s. When Annie asked questions about her biological family, her parents felt as if they’d failed in providing enough comfort and security for her. They felt that if they were good parents, their daughter would have no need to inquire about her past.

The only reason Annie knew how her parents felt was because she had eavesdropped on a conversation between her mom and Aunt Bess. Her mother had cried when she told Aunt Bess how she felt. Annie felt terribly guilty and ashamed for causing her mother such pain and vowed to never mention it again. Annie would keep her thoughts and questions to herself. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt her parents.

Chapter Five

The company dad worked for had sent a chauffered limousine to pick them up - talk about traveling in style! They all piled in and were whisked off to their new London address.

They drove into a cobblestone driveway and the driver stopped in front of a beautiful ivy-covered Tudor style manor house. As they got out of the car, Annie looked around at her new surroundings. They were in a walled-in courtyard. Lovely flowers and ivy grew everywhere along the walls. The house was in very good condition and looked welcoming. Off to the right, was a carriage house where they could park their cars. Annie saw that there were two cars already parked there.

Looking back at the house, she saw that it was three stories high. At the top was a round tower that had windows all around it. Annie hoped that this was where her room would be.

At the front of the house was an incredible entrance: six stone steps led up to the double front door of the home and on each side of the steps grew the most brightly colored flowers they’d ever seen.

When her father opened the front door, they faced a lovely entry hall with a set of stairs directly in front of them leading to the upper floors. Off to the right was a huge living room with a walk-in fireplace of green marble. The house was completely furnished. The windows in the front of the room looked out into the courtyard. The windows in the back of the room provided a view of a colorful herb and flower garden, a gazebo and the stables. Annie decided that was the next place she would explore. Hopefully, they’d have horses she could ride.

To the left of the entry hall was a library. The walls in this room were covered from floor to ceiling with books. The fireplace in this room was of the same size and same green marble. The windows in this room provided the same view as the living room.

Walking back into the entry wall and just past the stairs, they turned left into an enormous kitchen with a huge table. Annie’s mother was very happy to see that it was modernized in every way and even happier to see a cook already preparing a meal. As they were taking in the details of the room, the cook said, “Good morning and welcome. My name’s Bridget and I’m your cook.” The cook then curtsied. Mom and dad greeted her and introduced us to Bridget. I liked her right away. She was young, about 18, with long blonde hair, blue eyes and an abundance of freckles. She was quite plump which I assumed was a very good sign in a cook.

She apologized for not meeting us at the door and took over the tour, guiding us to the right where the formal dining room was. It was absolutely awesome with an even larger table covered in Irish lace. There were lots of windows and each was covered with matching Irish lace curtains. Another huge fireplace, blue marble this time, flanked one wall. Bridget led us upstairs to our bedrooms. She explained that the second floor was a master suite for my parents. Their room was very fancy and large. My parents both had their own dressing rooms and each one was bigger than my whole house back in New Rochelle! Next to my parent’s suite was the place where the twins would sleep. The room had been filled with every toy imaginable: Jayne and Dorothy were going to have a blast in this room.

By this time, I was getting really anxious to see my room. Sensing this, Bridget took me by the hand and said, ‘Come on, lassie. You get the whole third floor all to yourself.”

Chapter Six

When I saw my room I almost fainted dead away. This was the round tower I had seen from the courtyard. It was absolutely perfect.

Like all the others, this room was very large. The bed was an antique four-poster. All of the furniture seemed to be antique and beautiful. It must have belonged to a girl at one time. The wallpaper had a delicate floral print and the windows were covered with Irish lace. I had a panoramic view of the world outside my windows. The floor was polished wood, but scatter rugs had been generously placed around the room. Bridget turned to me and said shyly, “I hope you’ll be very happy here, Miss.” To which I replied, “Please call me Annie, Bridget. ‘Miss’ is too formal”.

“Thank you.” replied Bridget.

Just then, my parents and the twins entered my room. I hugged my parents and told them how happy I was with the house and room. Jayne and Dorothy were running from window to window, shouting and pointing at what they could see.

Bridget announced that the meal would be served in a half hour. She also told us that we would meet the housekeeper, Mrs. Meriweather, at that time.

Lunch was delicious. Bridget was a very good cook.

We met Mrs. Meriweather, who was a no-nonsense type of woman. Very British and very proper, if you know what I mean. She didn’t seem like the kind of person who had a great sense of humor, but she was nice enough. She would also serve as the nanny for Jayne and Dorothy. Mom was certainly looking forward to having some help with those two!

After lunch, we went to our rooms to unpack. Dad wanted to go the new office so Mom said she’d do the unpacking for both of them. Dad kissed us all goodbye and left.

Mrs. Meriweather took the twins to their room and I climbed the stairs to mine.

I found Bridget already there unpacking my stuff. I told her she didn’t have to do that, but she said, “Nonsense, lassie. You’re tired after your long trip and I’m glad to help.”

“Thanks, Bridget.”, I said. “Do you come from London? Your accent sounds different from Mrs. Meriweather’s.”

Bridget laughed, “It surely is, lassie. No, I come from Ireland. There was no work for me in my village, so I came to London. Lots of us do. I’ve been working here for two years now. I like it well enough, mind you, but I do miss my family sorely sometimes.”

“Well, I’m really glad you’re here.”, I replied.

“Pardon my asking, Miss, but you have a very different look about you than the rest of your family. Do you take after an ancestor?”, Bridget shyly asked.

“I know I look different. I’m adopted.”, I said.

“Saints forgive me! I’m so sorry for being nosy. I had no idea....”, stammered Bridget.

“It’s o.k. Really. As a matter of fact, the only think I do know is that my real parents were English. I’m hoping to find some information here about my biological mother.”, I said.

“That must be very difficult for you, Annie. Not knowing who your real mother is, I mean. If you need any help, I’d be privileged to do whatever I could.”, offered Bridget.

“Thanks, Bridget. You know what? I think we’re going to be good friends. I have a feeling about it.”, I said.

We smiled at each other and then Bridget said, “Glory be! I’ve got to get myself downstairs and start preparing supper or we’ll all go hungry.”

With that exclamation, she was gone.

Chapter Seven

Annie sat there for a very long time looking out the lovely windows of her room. She was used to people asking her about her looks. She had no resemblance whatsoever to her family. Her mother and father were both very dark as were the twins. Many years after they had adopted Annie, her mother became pregnant with the twins.

Dorothy and Jane looked exactly like their parents. Sometimes it made Annie feel really out of place. Annie had very pale skin, what her mother called a “peaches and cream” complexion. She had strawberry blonde hair, big blue eyes and loads of freckles. A typical English rose.

Annie had noticed when they arrived at Heathrow Airport how many girls resembled her. It was as if she was related to the whole island! Very strange for her. And very exciting, too.

When you’ve spent your whole life being different, it’s truly a revelation to find others who look like they could be related to you. It made Annie feel very optimistic because, for the first time, she really felt a part of some place.

(snipped)
Chapter Eleven

The weather had turned nasty outside. Annie decided that she would explore the manor house for awhile.

Since there was no attic, she decided to start at the very bottom and explore the cellar first. She found the stairs that led to the basement in the kitchen. Bridget was busily chopping vegetables when Annie entered the kitchen. She asked Bridget how to get to the cellar and Bridget had showed her where the door was.

“Mind your step now, lassie. That’s a very old cellar and I don’t want you getting hurt.”, cautioned Bridget.

“Don’t worry, Bridget. I’ll be careful”, promised Annie.

Annie went down the steep stairs, carefully as promised, and found herself in a rather gloomy, but enormous room. Looking around, whe realized that she could spend days down here exploring the contents.

Everywhere Annie looked there were old trunks and boxes. This room was like a treasure chest to her and she began to rummage through the contents.

She found trunks filled with very old clothing which were in surprisingly good condition considering their age. Annie also found boxes full of books of every kind imaginable. She wouldn’t have to search for reading material in this house!

There were a few very small windows located at the top of the cellar walls and Annie was surprised to see that it was getting dark. Hours had gone by. She decided to save any further exploration for another day.

Just as she was about to leave, something caught her attention in the back of the room. Annie approached a very large rectangular shaped item that was covered with a heavy cloth. When Annie removed the cloth, she was stunned to discover a portrait of a lady. The likeness was a mirror image of Annie, but it was how she would look as a grown-up.

Chapter Twelve

Annie ran up the cellar stairs and was glad to find Bridget still in the kitchen. She asked Bridget to please join her for a moment in the cellar. Bridget went downstairs with Annie and was equally astounded when confronted with the portrait of the unknown lady.

“Saints preserve us!,” cried Bridget while making the sign of the cross, “It’s you all grown up, Annie!”.

“How can we find out who it is?”, Annie asked.

“I don’t know. I think the first thing to do is start sorting through the papers and books down here. Maybe then we can find some information about the lady.”, replied Bridget.

“Yes, you’re right,” said Annie, “we can begin after supper tonight. Are you willing to help me, Bridget?”

“Of course I’ll help you, lassie. But not after supper, love. I go home after the supper dishes are cleared and cleaned. I don’t live here, Annie. I’m here every morning, bright and early, though. I’d be more than happy to help you then.”, replied Bridget.

“Fair enough. Thanks so much, Bridget.”, said Annie. She hugged the cook and they covered up the portrait and went back upstairs.

(snipped)
Chapter Sixteen

Annie was awakened by a voice softly calling her name. She opened her eyes to find the lady in the portrait at the foot of her bed. Well, it wasn’t exactly like the lady. It was more like the ‘spirit’ of the lady. Annie could see right through her!

Annie was surprised to realize that she wasn’t scared at all by this supernatural apparition. There was absolutely nothing frightening about this ghost. Grace Kensington spoke in a very soothing soft voice. Her face held a lovely smile for Annie and she made no move to come closer.

After the initial shock wore off, Annie listened to what the voice was saying to her:

“My name is Grace. Please don’t be frightened, Annie. I would never hurt you in any way. It was my portrait that you found in the cellar and my diary in the library. You’re now living in the very same room that was mine when I was living here. I’ve come to help you, Annie.”

“You look just like me!”, was all Annie could say.

Grace smiled at her, “Yes, I do, Annie. That’s because I’m your great-great-great-grandmother. My journal will help explain things to you, child. Read it carefully. When you’ve finished the journal, you’ll understand. My diary will bring you one step closer to the truth you seek.”

With those words, the lady vanished from sight.

Annie sat is bed for a very long time thinking about what she’d just learned. Her excitement was barely containable. She finally had a real clue to her identity. She knew that it was a very long way from a great-great-great-grandmother to finding her birthmother, but it was a beginning. With the spirit of her ancestor to guide her, she knew she would find the truth. There was no way she was going to be able to sleep anymore tonight. She took the diary out of its hiding place and began to read.

At the beginning of the diary, Grace explained that she was eighteen years old and an only child. Her parents were Lord Malcoln Kensington and the Lady Margaret Kensington. Her father was a Member of Parliament, whatever that meant. Annie made a mental note to ask Bridget about that.

Annie continued reading:

“April 1848:

It has become more and more apparent that father and I will never agree on politics, especially regarding Ireland the the Irish people. I find that I’m becoming more estranged from parents everyday. I find their views to be utterly unbearable.

Since the first potato blight occurred in 1840 in Ireland, conditions for the peasants have worsened beyond belief. Men, women and children ar dying of starvation by the hundreds of thousands. During British rule in Ireland, the Irish peasant has always been forced to survive by their meager potato crop alone. All other crops must be used to pay the landlords their rent. Now that the potato crops have been destroyed by blight after blight, the people have no food to sustain their lives. If they don’t pay their rent with the edible crops they produce, they are forcefully evicted from their homes. Can you imagine being thrown out of your home with no means to feed your family or survive? I cannot.

Father says that the potato blight is the Lord’s way of ‘thinning out’ the Irish population. He believes they have too many children and that this famine is their salvation. He is very angry that I have taken up the cause of the Irish peasant in these matters. Father points out that the British government has provided relief for the peasants in the form of workhouses. Workhouses! How can a person lift a shovel when they are starving and desperately weak and ill?

He cannot be reasoned with. Father believes that all the Irish are lazy and worthless. He says they brought this disaster upon themselves. Mother agrees with him. How could I have been born to these people and be so incredible different? Their callousness to this tragedy makes me ashamed to be a Kensington.”

Annie closed the diary and reflected upon what she had read that night. Although Annie and Grace were separated by more than 150 years, she felt as though she were actually getting to know Grace. Annie’s parents were nothing at all like Grace’s, but she could identify with Grace’s feelings of detachment from her family. Grace, too, felt different. That thought comforted Annie. She closed the journal and placed it under the mattress. After a time, she fell asleep.