The ear-piercing whistle of the Redfern train whispered ancient secrets of a time long ago as 11-year Mary Jones hopped off the carriage onto the rough concrete below. Around her, heavy clouds as dark as coal were rolling in like bowling balls as the cold autumn wind played with Mary’s thick, brown hair. Mary had been shoved onto the train by her one and only family member, her cruel and unfriendly grandmother, who sent her on her merry way to find a home and family in Sydney. Now it was just her, a young English orphan, the colour of a ripe peach. No-one to care for her, no-one to love her, no-one to play with her.
After what felt like hours of wandering about the bustling city of Redfern, Mary was starting to grow an appetite. She looked around- people dressed in grey flooded her eyes, their big, droopy coats matched the sky above. Not even a glimpse of colour was anywhere, and Mary felt rather like the odd one out in her bright red coat she had found on the side of the road. Happy families huddling in the cold caught her eye, and a heavy pit of sadness clogged her throat at the thought of the word-family. Her bottom lip quivered as tears welled in her rich, brown eyes. “Don’t cry, don’t cry.” She muttered to herself. Desperately trying to hold back the tears, she clutched her old, worn-out locket to her heart. Mary could almost hear the voices of her family and feel her Mother’s arms wrap around her in a great comforting hug, a balm for her aching heart.
Mary’s stomach grumbled, rousing her from her thoughts. She couldn’t last any longer. Food. Water. All she needed was just one person, one person who would stop to help her. Her tummy rumbled like an angry dragon, lurking in his cave. Her throat felt as if someone had set it on fire. She forced herself to keep up the pace and as she trudged past old, faded buildings, a miserable thought stuck in Mary’s aching mind; “I’m never finding a home, am I?” Once again, she glanced down at her locket, the only memory of her family left, now just a charm of faded gold.
At that moment, from the corner of her eye, Mary saw a flash of movement. A young, slim girl, around the same age as Mary herself, and a joyful old woman by her side. The girl, dressed in lace, caught Mary looking at her and smiled, warmly. Mary felt a wave of happiness wash over her. With renewed energy, she slowly walked toward them… Finding family might not be that hard after all.
Isabella Marks