My grandmother’s diary of 1913 spanned one full year. The longest entry was entitled My Only Secret.

It begins with, “when I went to school…” a reference to her being bribed by her father to drop out of high school and work in the family bakery full-time.

After much turmoil, she finally left school for a few hundred dollars deposited by her father into a savings account. (More on this later). In the meantime, this entry speaks from the hearts of every soul, young and old.

My Only Secret

When I went to school, I took a fancy to a boy. I won’t mention his name. He was sixteen at the time and I was just fourteen. Everything he did pleased me. And he often chatted up the other girls and although I tried to convince myself that I didn’t care for him, I felt myself grow jealous.

When I heard we intended to move from there [Newark to Orange, NJ] I grew what you call love sick at the thought of never seeing him anymore.

(It will be understood that I kept all to myself; no one ever dreaming me capable of loving anyone).

He had a sister, although I only knew her slightly. I wrote her a postal on the sly and asked how her mother father and brothers were, expecting to hear from him myself. Many days I waited for an answer, but none came.

I had often dreamed of him since. Oh, such sweet dreams, each one making me raise him higher in my adoration.

I’ll admit that I took fancies to other young men, but these left me no sooner than they had taken place. Now, through some friendship, my chum Daisy Matson often came to see me. I hinted around about my friend and I finally, without any suspicion on her part, found out that he went to high school. (We both graduated from eighth grade at the same time, and that besides this, he spent his spare time working as an order boy).

Not long ago there was a lunch-box party and I learned through Daisy that he was there and all the girls of the club I belong to, I also was invited. He brought three boxes and therefore had three girls to eat with, but I was not one of them. Again I felt my jealousy rise. Foolish it may sound, but all my dreams make impressions on my mind and I’ve decided if I ever think of marrying, I’ll think of him first.

Now this is about two years ago, and it can’t be a fancy for I’m forever thinking of him, and every three or four months, I have another dream of him, awakening fresh thoughts in my mind. This, like some good or evil being coursing through my blood.

I often visited the place where he lived and passed his house, but only once did I meet him. I was with Hattie and Fred [her siblings] and when he saw us he just tipped his hat and said, “How do?” and walked on. This was like a blow to me, but I ought to have expected it for I’m sure if he knew I cared for him, he’d try to care for me.

After that I couldn’t get it out of my mind how I loved to see him work on the blackboard so intently at school. Watching him was like paradise to me. I’d watch him and as I was working, he’d watch me. I suppose in the future I will look at this and call it silly trash. Or maybe my dreams will be rewarded. Who knows?

To be continued…