Violet Bridget is 5 years old. She enrolled into West Seattle elementary last week. My best friend Joanne who was also my co-worker warned me about her. Joanne was the school's guidance counselor she had met Violet before. All Joanne told me was that Violet was not like the other children. She’s a shy and mysterious pale looking young girl who wears victorian gothic styled dresses and black dress shoes to school. Violets black hair was always braided in pigtails. Her eyes were dark gray with brown specks and she always wore a blank stare as if she was watching something even though nothing was there. Violet did not speak english well.As a result,T the first morning she was in my classroom, she did not say …show more content…
“She learn English quickly! I only speak English to her home now.” He was an elderly looking brittle and wrinkly man. He appeared far too old to be a kindergartener’s father. He was romanian and walked with a cane and wore italian leather shoes.He wore a suit that seemed very vintage and expensive. It seemed to look like he was very wealthy. I wondered why he hadnt enrolled Violet in a privet school instead.
I really detested him. He was never interested the least bit interested in what I had to say about Violet's performance in class although it was positive.He did have a lot to say though about his own significance. “I was the richest in my town before I come to America. I lost the money when I come, but soon I will be the rich one again.”
Rosewood is an insignificant town. The fact that he thinks he can get rich here is irrelevant.I barely have enough to pay my own rent.
As time passed, I realized Violet's father was correct about her skills— she is learning English quickly. But the things she says can be so peculiar at …show more content…
“Nice work,Violet,” I complimented her when I stopped to admire her work. “You have a younger brother?”
“Yes Misses. He is baby.”
“His teeth look very pointy and sharp, they are not actually like that, are they?”
“He like to bite.”
“Wow.Your mothers hair,it is very long”
“Yes Misses.Like story Rapunzel. She beautiful. Miss Macy, people who no have heads no like people. They look dead.”
I did not understand what she was trying to tell me.“Don’t paint the dead , Violet.” "Only paint yourself and your family.” was all i could manage to respond.
I pondered about how she is at home. Violet brings some cash to school every day and buys herself lunch in the cafeteria. She eats very piggishl and quickly. I sat next to her yesterday at the cafeteria and asked her why she had eaten so wildly.
“I love the school food,” she replied. “School food very great!”
“Do you eat good food at home?” I asked. “What do you like to eat at home?”
“We like eat beans.”
“What else do you like?”
“Just beans. Papa tell me only beans good to eat, so have to eat beans.”
“Violet, you cannot not live off only beans.”
“Yes Misses, we can. They unique beans.”
“Well, what type of beans are