Her mother and father pushed at her not to date any of the young men in town. Olivia never wanted to go out with anyone. She saw herself as someone who wasn't pretty enough for anyone to like. When she looked in the mirror, she saw a pale, round face, with a tiny nose and small beady eyes. Her mouth was over sized, and her neck was long. Her hair was short so she couldn't do anything to over up her neck. On one occasion, she wore her favorite green dress to church Her mother and father, sadly were shamed to be seen with her. She was seventeen at the time, and they knew she would become an old maid.
'One day he will come for me' she thought.
When her parents died, she stayed in the house where she was raised. There was no place for her to go anyway, so why leave? She still had seen herself as a pale thin girl; with beady eyes, and a small nose. Her mouth looked like it was shrinking, slowly, as if she was growing into it. She didn't like to go outside of her house often, because people would stare at her. She thought it was because she was ugly. On another occasion, she wore her favorite purple dress to the store one day. Sadly, she was ashamed to be seen in public. She was twenty seven at the time. She knew she would become an old maid.
'He may still come for me' she thought.
Many, many years later,when her youth had died, and when she was old and decrepit, she still lived in that house where she was raised. She never left her home town. She still had seen herself as a pale, wrinkled old lady, with teeny eyes, and a small nose. Her mouth was still big and she thought of herself as an old lady who scared children. Her hands had become wrinkled, and they shook, so she had a hard time holding onto things. She didn't go outside much anymore, she had her groceries delivered. On the last occasion, she had worn her nightgown, and robe with her slippers outside to her mailbox. She had an old wooden cane in her right hand, steadying her as she waddled along on the walkway. She got to her mailbox, and across the street, a young boy was playing with his parents. He looked up.
"Who is that, mommy?" His mother turned her head, and replied,
"That's the old maid, son. She never had a husband." The little boy's face crinkled up with puzzlement.
"Why?"
"Well son," she shrugged one shoulder. "She just hasn't."
"But she's pretty!" The boy exclaimed. His mother smiled and nodded her head. The little by then jumped up and ran across the street and stopped right in front of her. The old woman just looked at him.
"You're pretty!" He told her, and gave her a big hug.
Tears started to slowly flow out of each eye. For that was the first person to tell her that. She was eighty-seven at the time.
"Thank you." she managed to squeak out. She was certain she was an old maid now.
'He came for me.' she thought