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  She may have other ideas; to be a bluestocking, for instance, in which case I must give her the chance. But I’d rather she was less clever, and wholly a woman, than a brilliant scholar later frustrated by marriage. Meanwhile, I’ll give her a house full of books, with none of them closed to her, but not expect her to prefer Proust to Pam’s Schooldays. If she’s a success I’ll be pleased, but I’ll not care if she isn’t nor measure my approval in terms of her O Levels. May spontaneity and warmth be her main achievements, not gradings in academic abstractions. May she feel confident, wanted, take pleasure and give it, be artful (but not want to act), laugh easily, covet no one, forget herself sometimes, never be bored or feel the need to kill time, avoid painting-by-numbers, processed food, processed language, have an antenna for the responses of others, and learn that though animals are often much easier to love than men (and both worth it) loving man needs more talent…

  These are hopes, of course, rather than exact intentions. For who knows what my girl will be? She’s only a few months old, and a surprise already – and I imagine I’ve got a lot more surprises coming. But in the end, I suppose, I just want to give her love and the assurance of a home on earth. This child was not born merely to extend my ego, nor even to give me unbroken pleasure, nor to provide me with a plaything to be fussed over, neglected, shown off and then put away. She was born that I might give her a first foot in this world and might help her to want to live in it. She is here through me, and I am responsible for her – and I’m not looking for any escape clauses there. Having a child alters the rights of every man, and I don’t expect to live as I did without her. I am hers to be with, and hope to be what she needs, and know of no reason why I should ever desert her.

  About the Author

  Laurie Lee (1914–1997) was an English memoirist, poet, and painter. Raised in the village of Slad in the Cotswolds, Lee walked to London at the age of nineteen and from there traveled on foot through Spain. In the winter of 1937 he returned to Spain, crossing the Pyrenees in the middle of a snowstorm and joining the International Brigade in the fight against fascism. In his autobiographical trilogy—the bestselling Cider with Rosie (1959), As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning (1969), and A Moment of War (1991)—Lee vividly recounts his childhood and early journeys. His other acclaimed works include four volumes of poetry and the travel memoir A Rose for Winter (1955).

  All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  Copyright 1963 by Laurie Lee

  Cover design by Heidi North

  ISBN: 978-1-4976-4136-5

  This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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  LAURIE LEE

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