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The Homecoming, 1942.
We paused by the harmonium in the hall. David and I longed to pull out all the stops. 'Not tonight children,' Molly sighed. The last time we slept in our house was between our parents on a mattress on the kitchen floor; Jim had arrived home unexpectedly that night. We listened to the thunder of the ack-ack guns and drone of enemy planes overhead. Tonight we would be in our own beds.
Molly turned the light low. She kissed us goodnight. 'Nice to be home, isn't it...' I was a Big Girl now.
We paused by the harmonium in the hall. David and I longed to pull out all the stops. 'Not tonight children,' Molly sighed. The last time we slept in our house was between our parents on a mattress on the kitchen floor; Jim had arrived home unexpectedly that night. We listened to the thunder of the ack-ack guns and drone of enemy planes overhead. Tonight we would be in our own beds.
Molly turned the light low. She kissed us goodnight. 'Nice to be home, isn't it...' I was a Big Girl now.
Used availability for Sheila Newberry's Dancing in the Street