Mj Pettengill

It was oddly festive for such an unfortunate event.

It had become a devastatin’ riddle, choosin’ between rent or food; because of the risin’ cost of both, Daidí could afford neither.

Child labor laws were not in place until later years, often brought about by catastrophic losses.

Recently, my years of research and family history collided.

...they were stripped of their names and either given a fresh new name or were issued a number—a new moral identity.

The original blog was replaced with a simple poem. Here's why...

Paupers were punished for being poor, the elders for aging, and the sick for failing. Where did we go from there? Where do we go from here?

Once I was on my way to proper identification, comprehension, and acknowledgment, the wall of pain slowly and steadily vanished.

There was a great deal of heartache and compassion for these unfortunate souls, but few answers. I ask now, have we found solutions?

There were many children like August and Billy. Where are they now?

May the little ones be mothered, as they should be, and all of us raised up from the deeps, Amen.

She was an angel who appeared at the right time.

As a perennial hermitess, this is bearable— even preferable—but the time has come to emerge from the cocoon.

Do you know what a foundling is?

Until meeting Samuel, I was unaware that I had left a vital part of my soul in the heart of that tree.

I find my way to the truth. It’s there; it waits patiently for relief from rage left unexpressed.

With Abigail, I shared gratitude when my father gave me this doll. And like Abigail, my doll meant more after my father’s passing.

It was oddly festive for such an unfortunate event.

Before Death’s final blow, she was but a flower that never faded, showin’ me the fierceness of a mother’s love.

There wasn’t a better place for untanglin’ thoughts and bein’ amongst clouds.