Kids r kids richmond: Preschool & Daycare Richmond, TX
Kids R Kids #23 | Preschool
Preschool in Richmond, TX 77469
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1250 Crabb River Rd
Richmond, TX 77469
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- About
- Teaching Philosophy
Kids `R` Kids is a locally owned and operated franchise. We are very proud to provide the most innovative facilities and effective educational programs for children 6 weeks through 12 years of age.
Our sincere love for children and strong belief that they should have a solid foundation in combination with Kids `R` Kids the absolute leader in its industry make the perfect choice for your family`s childcare needs. Our center is approximately 17000 square feet with 10 classroom suites a cafeteria a resource room a large activity gym for before and after school students four large play areas separated for age groups and a splash park for the children to play in during the summer.
At Kids `R` Kids we share a common desire with parents which is to provide the absolute best for the children. Our high quality teachers creative and fun educational programs and of course our state-of-the-art facility make us stand high above our competitors.
Please read through our information; if you have any additional questions feel free to contact us.
We love children and are dedicated to making our school a great success. Our door is always open for parents to come and discuss their needs ask questions give suggestions and comments. We encourage you to come take a tour and meet the staff. We are confident that you will agree with us this is the best environment for your child!
- Child Ages:
- 6 weeks – 12 years
- Licenses & Accreditations:
- Texas Department of Family and Protective Services – NAEYC Accredited
- Preschool:
- Yes
- Hours of Operation:
- 06:00 AM-06:30 PM – Monday – Friday
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Kids R Kids-Richmond Waterside Estates Cir
Kids R Kids-Richmond Waterside Estates Cir – Care.com Richmond, TX Child Care Center
Costimate™
$159
per week
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Costimate™
$159/week
Ratings
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Kids ‘R’ Kids of Waterside at Richmond, TX provides excellent child care for children 6 weeks to 12 years of age. Their center aims to maintain a safe and stimulating environment where children maximize their opportunities to grow and develop.
In business since: 2004
Total Employees: 11-50
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Monday : |
6:30AM – 6:30PM |
Tuesday : |
6:30AM – 6:30PM |
Wednesday : |
6:30AM – 6:30PM |
Thursday : |
6:30AM – 6:30PM |
Friday : |
6:30AM – 6:30PM |
Saturday : |
Closed |
Sunday : |
Closed |
Type
Child Care Center/Day Care Center
Preschool (or Nursery School or Pre-K)
Program Capacity:
300
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Full Time (5 days/wk)
Full-Day
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Extended Care (After School)
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Child Care / Preschools / Preschools in Richmond, TX / Kids R Kids-Richmond Waterside Estates Cir
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Christmas Love (Compilation) read online by Lee Michaels, Carla Cassidy, Emma Richmond (Page 26)
— No, I’m divorced.
— And my mother too. Do you have children?
Julia’s heart sank.
— Yes, I have… I have a little girl.
— Where is she? Benjamin smiled from ear to ear.
– She… she died last year. She was hit by a car.
– So she is in heaven.
– Probably. Julia’s hands gripped the fabric of her coat convulsively. She wished that Benjamin would leave, that this conversation would end immediately. “I think you better get back on stage. After all, the rehearsal is about to begin.
– If your little girl is in heaven, why do you look so sad? Benjamin went on as if nothing had happened. “The sky is beautiful everywhere and no one ever gets sick. He looked thoughtfully at Julia. – If I get to heaven before my mother, I would not want her to be sad. Heaven…
— Benjamin, come on stage! Julia already demanded, not noticing the tone in which she spoke because of the pain in her heart.
— Nothing, nothing, I can still stay here, — Benjamin stubbornly. – What was your girl’s name?
Unable to bear this torture, Julia jumped up, trembling.
— I don’t want to talk about it anymore! she exclaimed, dimly aware that she was speaking angrily, but unable to change her voice. Her suffering overshadowed everything around. She just wanted to stop talking and get away from the boy with clear eyes and the smell of childhood. “Go to the children, Benjamin.
— But I just…
— Get out of here! she shouted at the top of her voice, but then she sank inwardly, noticing that tears glistened in the child’s eyes, and his lower lip trembled treacherously. She was about to apologize to Benjamin, but Chris suddenly grew up next to her. He grabbed her by the elbow and resolutely led her to the end of the barn. When they were out of sight of the children, Chris abruptly turned Julia towards him and looked at her, but instead of the usual warmth, he wafted arctic cold . ..
— Are you aware of your actions? he asked in a hissing whisper.
— I…
— How dare you come here and vent your misfortune on Benjamin? What gives you the right to scream at a little boy and bring him to tears? Chris spoke with an angry expression, squeezing Julia’s elbow almost painfully. Livvy would be outraged by your behavior.
It was Julia’s turn to lose her temper, she yanked her hand violently freeing her.
— You have the courage to believe that you know everything about my daughter, even about what she would think and say! she exclaimed passionately, though her heart was torn to pieces. “You have no right to talk about her. And then, you are to blame for everything, and no one else. You should have taken me to a motel… left me to my own devices… and most importantly, left me in the car to die. – She said the last words, seized with despair, already in a whisper.
The anger on Chris’s face was replaced by disappointment and disappointment.
– Julia, Livvy passed away. We do not always know why this happens, but we must continue to live. Since she is in heaven, then so be it.
And it’s time for you to come to terms with this. You told me how Livvy loved life, how she loved to laugh. She would certainly like you to continue to live.
– But I don’t know how. Not wanting to hear anything more, Julia gave herself up to her grief, like a black shawl separating her from the rest of the world, and jumped out of the barn.
She ran for a long time, as if fleeing from the pain that tormented her like a predatory beast with its claws.
The cold night air burned her lungs, but she continued to run until, exhausted, she fell on a snowdrift.
There was dead silence, in which her stifled sobs and sobs were heard loudly.
Oh, Livvy, dear Livvy! Her heart sank with the desire to hold her daughter close to her, to feel the scent of her fine hair. It should not be. Children should not die before their parents!. .
Julia rolled onto her back and peered up at the millions of stars above her head. Which one is Livvy? When Julia was little, her mother used to say that the stars were the twinkling eyes of angels.
Julia closed her eyes tightly, trying to block the way for the tears that icy streamed down her cheeks. No, children should not die before their parents. This is unnatural.
In addition to Julia’s will, her mother was remembered. She passed away three years ago after a long illness.
Julia remembers well the specific smell of disinfection in the ward, the quiet rhythmic tinkling of the artificial heart machine connected to her mother, her labored breathing.
– Julia! Mom called softly. With one hand she stroked her daughter’s cheek, with the other she took her hand.
“I’m here,” Julia replied.
The mother looked at her daughter with a loving smile and wiped the tears from her face.
– Don’t cry for me, daughter. – (Julia, unable to utter a word, only squeezed her mother’s hand tighter. ) “And don’t worry about me,” continued the mother. “I’ll be fine as long as I know you’re happy.”
Chris’s words were running through Julia’s head now. Maybe he’s right? And does Livvy really need her, Julia, to be happy?
Julia had no doubt that Livvy was in heaven, that loving hands supported her. In the same way, she was quite sure that someday she would hug her Livvy again. But before that, Julia must learn to continue to live without a girl.
She sat down and wiped the tears from her cold cheeks. Chris is right. Livvy loved life, and most of all she loved Christmas. Turning her back on what Livvy loved so much, is she hurting her daughter?
Still thinking hard to herself, Julia slowly rose to her feet and turned her gaze back to the starry sky. Millions of stars sparkled brightly in the dark sky. Julia knew that some of them had burned down long ago, only the light that remained from them still reminded of their former existence. Same with Livvy, Julia thought. Life has departed from her, and the memory of the radiance that she reflected will remain for a long time.
Yes, Livvy would like her mother to love, laugh, and be filled with Christmas spirit. If she, Julia, allowed her grief to subside, it would not mean that her love for Livvy would subside. She is obliged to live for Livia, to see the radiance of the sun, which she will never see, in memory of Livvy to enjoy life.
Julia recalled with a sense of acute shame how Benjamin, offended by her, had wept. Chris is right: Livvy would be outraged by Julia’s selfish behavior.
She needs to apologize to the little boy. And in front of Chris too.
With these thoughts, Julia returned to the barn, opened the door without hesitation and went inside.
The children rehearsed the scene of the birth of Jesus. The baby – a doll of the corresponding type was in a cardboard box. Maria was portrayed as a girl with red pigtails sticking out to the sides and cookie crumbs on her face. Joseph, with the ingenuous naivety of his age, scratched under his arm. The goat kept trying to chew the shepherd’s staff, and every now and then a halo of aluminum foil fell from the angel’s head.
And in the midst of this incredible chaos, the figure of Chris towered. He drove the goat away from the stick that replaced the shepherd’s staff, straightened the halo on the angel’s head, found a kind word for all the children together and for each child individually – in a word, he was truly the soul of this multifaceted action.
But then all the participants of the performance sang the anthem “Silent Night” in unison, and tears flowed down Julia’s cheeks again. But completely different than before. As the children’s voices filled the barn, and the words of the hymn reached Julia’s ears, she knew that this time she was crying tears of cleansing and healing.
The children sang the anthem for the second time, and Julia imperceptibly began to sing along with them – not so much with her lips, but with her whole heart, feeling how she was slowly seized by a state of reconciliation with the world around her.
Livvy, listening to her mother’s voice, wrapped her arms around herself. The sounds coming from her seemed to envelop her in a warm, soft blanket.
With a slight sigh of satisfaction, the little angel began to fall asleep to the soothing singing of his mother, which replaced the lullaby.
CHAPTER NINE
— What if I go with you? Julia asked after the evening rehearsal, when Chris was going to take the children to the “School”.
Chris, pleasantly surprised, looked up at her. He had seen her enter the barn and had been talking to Benjamin a few minutes earlier, obviously apologizing for the unpleasant episode.
“Of course I will be glad,” he replied.
After a few minutes everyone got into the sledge: Julia and Chris in front, the children behind them. The merry ringing of bells served as an accompaniment to children’s laughter and the clatter of horse hooves. The moon was already throwing off enough light to snatch the winter landscape out of the darkness and paint it in silvery tones.
The heavenly body gave Julia’s hair a kind of magical sheen, cast shadows on her face, from which Chris couldn’t take his eyes off. Sensing this, Julia turned to Chris with an uncertain smile.
That one’s heart immediately felt lighter. He was tormented by the fear that he was too harsh with her, allowed himself too much in expressions. Julia’s smile calmed him, awakened in him the desire to stroke her cheek, to kiss her seductively close lips.
Instead, he, dissatisfied with the direction of his thoughts, slightly accelerated the horses: now, when he drives a sleigh full of children, this is not the time to indulge in sinful thoughts, so inappropriate for the position of Santa Claus.
The School for Children was about half an hour away. Chris and Julia almost could not talk: their voices were drowned in children’s laughter and songs. Only on the way back Julia was the first to break the silence.
“You were right, you know,” she said softly, pulling her coat collar tighter around her neck.
— Right? In what? Chris responded with curiosity.
– And in what you told me: Livvy wants me to continue to enjoy life and be happy.
Chris shrugged and brought the horses to a quieter pace.
— Yes, I believe so.
– And I want to believe it. I just need to believe that my daughter is looking at me from somewhere above. She smiled at Chris. “For the first time in this terrible year, I think without a shudder that my life has not ended, that it can continue, and for that I should thank you.
“I have nothing to do with it,” he objected hotly. “You are a strong woman, Julia, you can see it in your eyes. After all, you would have managed without me. This time he did not fight his desires, but, obeying them, put his hand on her shoulder. And Julia, in response, did not tense up with her whole body, as she used to, but, on the contrary, clung to his warm shoulder.
— Even though I still feel pain at the thought that I will continue to live without Livvy.
“The pain will never completely go away,” Chris said, holding her tighter. “Livvy will forever remain in your memory, in your heart.
At the memory of her face, at the mention of her name, your heart will always shrink – bitter and sweet at the same time. But you will learn to live with this pain. And enjoy life for Livvy.
Julia looked at Chris again with her brown eyes, in which tears glittered like diamonds.
— How did you manage to become so wise, Chris Kringle? she asked.
“I don’t even know, I just think I got lucky,” he answered in a flippant tone.
Julia sighed wearily, exhausted from the experiences she’d had over the past few hours. Somehow it happened by itself that she laid her head on Chris’s shoulder, and then he realized that, unwittingly, in a couple of days that Julia spent at the North Pole, he had fallen head over heels in love with her.
In the meantime, a day or two will pass, and she will drive back to her Denver to start a new life there. Her heart began to thaw a little, and he had no doubt that in the future everything would work out for her. He also had no doubt that he had acted incredibly stupid for a wise man, falling so hopelessly in love with this woman.
The best thing he can do is let her get out of here as soon as possible.
On the day of the performance, the weather turned out to be cloudy, the gloomy sky threatened with snowfall. But such a trifle as bad weather could not spoil the mood of the inhabitants of the “North Pole”.
— There will be no snow until the performance! Chris exclaimed with the confidence of a man who has personal contact with a great meteorologist in heaven.
Julia smiled, for some reason immediately believing that if Chris said that there would be no snow, then there would not be any.
They spent most of the morning in the shed, polishing it up before the spectators arrived.
Twigs of evergreens and holly were tied to the edges of all the benches, and tables were covered with brightly colored front tablecloths—later they would serve cakes, sweets, eggnog, and punch for the guests. The stage was set, the scenery was set.
The rest of the day Julia helped Mabel bake cakes. And all this time she did not leave the peaceful mood that descended on her when she lay on a snowdrift. True, she kept thinking about Livvy and more than once experienced a passionate desire to see her next to her, but this did not prevent her from calmly accepting the life around her without her daughter.
Cold sandwiches were served for dinner.
“Eat faster,” Mabel urged, “guests will appear any minute.
“A piece won’t go down your throat,” Chris announced, pushing his plate away from him.
“He’s always like that,” Mabel explained to Julia. As if he is worried before speaking for all the children at once.
— I just know what an important role the play plays in the lives of children, and I want everything to turn out well.
Julia leaned across the table and took Chris’s hand in hers, trying to comfort him.
– I’m sure everything will go great. Children will perform as well as possible, and the audience will be delighted. Her friendly shake made Chris’ eyes blaze so hot that she hurried to withdraw her hand. His look reminded her of how good it was to kiss Chris and feel his strong male body.
Embarrassed by her emotions, Julia dug her teeth into her sandwich. Chris and Mabel continued to discuss the upcoming holiday, but she ignored the whole conversation. She was not up to it – she was trying to figure out her feelings for Chris.
He showed her kindness when she needed her most. Chris melted the ice of her grief with his warmth. He conquered her with kisses, his unforgettable caresses haunted her in a dream and in reality. He breathed new life into her and taught her to come to terms with her grief.
She will forever be grateful to Chris for everything he has done for her, but are her feelings for him limited to gratitude?
She was afraid to take a closer look at them.
“I think I have a long skirt with a red blouse upstairs that you can wear tonight,” Mabel said, snapping Julia out of her reverie. “They were left by a girl who worked for us two months ago. She is about your size.
“With pleasure,” Julia replied, remembering that she did not have a single suitable toilet in her suitcase. But Livvy wants to see her dressed up in the evening!
After eating, she tried on clothes – and was satisfied: the blouse was exactly the right fit, and the skirt had to be slightly narrowed at the waist, but for this it was enough to resort to the help of safety pins.
In full dress, she went downstairs and entered the kitchen at the very moment when Chris was finishing the phone call.
– They called from the “School”. Jennifer Baker will not be able to perform tonight. She’s in quarantine for chicken pox.
— What a nuisance! Does she have a big role? Julia asked.
“No,” Chris shook his head. – She portrayed an angel who sits on the top step of the stairs. She has no words, and we can do without her, but she, poor thing, will be terribly upset that she will lose such pleasure. He ran a hand through his hair in disgust. “I’ll have to think of something to comfort her.”
Julia nodded, touched that his first thought was of a little girl who would not be able to act in the play.
– Maybe, when she gets better, we will arrange a special party for her called “Cheerful Windmill”? Julia suggested, but then, recollecting herself, blushed: after all, by that time she would have left here. “That way you and Doc and Mabel will reward her a hundredfold for not participating in today’s holiday,” she amended.
A car horn came from the yard.
– Children! I’d better go to the barn, or they’ll eat all the cakes before the rest of the guests arrive! Chris exclaimed.
— Do you want me to go with you? I can deal with children.
— Of course I want to! If you agree to meet the guests, it will be wonderful, then I can take care of the children backstage,” Chris smiled, hugging her shoulders.
“Helping Santa Claus is a great honor for me,” Julia replied.
– Santa Claus needs to have as many fairies as possible, and you are the most beautiful fairy I have ever seen in my life.
On the way through the snow-covered yard to the barn, Julia again thought how comfortable she was here and how nice it was to feel Chris’s hand on her shoulders.
Again, this thought frightened her. So scared that she did not dare to think it through to the end.
And does she want it? After all, she decided one thing for herself – she needed to return to life. It is still premature to build other plans for the future.
“We’ll talk later,” Chris said as he entered the barn and removed his hand from her shoulder.
She remained silent, dumbfounded by her feelings. Chris, having collected the children, led them backstage, and Julia, still in a confused state of mind, sat down in the “auditorium”. No, I can’t be in love with Chris Kringle, she thought. It’s just incredible! Of course, she is full of gratitude and has the most friendly feelings for him. And not only friendly feelings, but also a strong physical attraction. It is what it is. But is it love?
She thought she would never again open her heart to this feeling that it left her with Livvy forever. It’s too early to even think she’s capable of falling in love.
The sound of a car door slamming pulled Julia to her feet. The guests began to arrive.
Now is not the time to think about Chris and your feelings about him.
A few minutes later the barn was filled with people waiting in high spirits for the show to begin. Julia felt from their friendliness that Chris was loved in the neighborhood and that this love extended to her, his guest.
Mabel and Doc were standing at the drinks table, much to Julia’s delight, arguing over the best way to serve punch to the guests. She got the impression that this couple could never agree on anything, except for mutual sympathy.
A few minutes before the start, Chris, with a video camera in hand, ran up to Julia.
— Will you film the performance? he asked.
“With pleasure,” she replied.
– Thank you. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek as he walked.
Julia touched her cheek, where his kiss was still burning. Surprising yet in it is a combination of boundless kindness and sexuality, affecting first the heart, and then the hormones!
But I’m leaving in a couple of days, she reminded herself sternly. Besides, who knows how Chris feels about her? Maybe his kissing is nothing more than a natural demeanor for such a warm, kind person. Observing how he behaves with children, with Mabel and Doc, she noticed that kisses and other manifestations of affection are familiar to him.
Richmond. 1811–1815 Edgar Poe. Shadow Genius
Richmond. 1811–1815
After the death of Elizabeth Poe, her children were separated – apparently on the same day – Edgar was taken to her by Mrs. John Allan, and Rosalie went to the Mackenzie family. Both belonged to the propertied class, their families were very wealthy, but the decision to take the children with them, most likely, at that time was spontaneous. S. Weiss, mentioned above, stated: “After consultations, it was decided that the children would be with Messrs. Allan and Mackenzie until they were claimed by relatives from Baltimore.” Well, it’s quite possible. If women had any far-reaching plans regarding the fate of their children, they were not publicly announced. Benefactors took care of the funeral of the actress.
In such a religious country as America, especially in that age when earthly life was considered as a prologue to eternal life, this event was extremely significant. Funerals must be honorable. But the comedian (“the vessel of sin”!) After death, a mournful fate awaited, and according to the customs of that time, he was buried outside the cemetery fence, on unconsecrated ground. So it was to be with Elizabeth Poe. But Allan and Mackenzie, apparently not without the help of extraordinary donations (after all, for a reasonable fee it is not difficult to find a compromise that suits both parties), managed to solve the problem: the actress was buried, albeit in the far corner of the cemetery, but inside the fence, which was a corresponding entry was made in the parish register of the local Anglican church of St. John. True (perhaps this clause was one of the conditions of the contract), the grave of the actress remained nameless. The tombstone was installed only more than a century later, when mores changed somewhat and the world fame of the poet forced his descendants to search for and preserve even the slightest traces of his earthly life.
There is no doubt that little Edgar and his one-year-old sister were present at the mourning ceremony. However, they were so small that they could hardly remember any of its details.
After the funeral, Edgar moved into the home of the Richmond merchant John Allan and his wife Frances. The house was located in the central part of the then very small Richmond (its population was about six thousand inhabitants), at the corner of Main and Thirteenth streets[17]. The building was two stories high. On the first floor there was a store and office of the firm “Ellis and Allan”, co-owned by the head of the family, and on the second – living quarters. Let the modern reader not be surprised by the last circumstance: in the era of the primary accumulation of capital, this was a common thing. Although John Allan was not a poor man and could certainly afford a separate house, he did not consider this a priority. Nevertheless, he certainly belonged to the “city elite” and was well received in the houses of the most respected and wealthy citizens.
In addition to the head of the family, his wife, Mrs. Frances Killing Allan, her unmarried (older) sister, Miss Ann Valentine, and black slave servants lived in the house on Main Street. How many there were is not known for certain, but apparently not many. However, for a little boy, they most likely merged into a single mass, except perhaps for the “mother”, who helped the hostess to take care of him: bathe, change clothes, feed. Later, having become older, among the servants, the young man singled out two Negro slaves: an elderly one, named Thomas, and a young one, whose name was Scipio. Apparently, they were “domestic slaves”, and the boy communicated with them.
As was customary in the South, the Allans led a rather active social life: they attended balls, receptions, went to the theater, responding to the invitations of familiar planters, and went to visit. One of these trips took place shortly after the appearance of the boy in the family. The Allan family was invited to their estate to celebrate Christmas by the local rich man, the planter Bowler Cock. Ellis & Allan did business with him, so it was a natural invitation. The estate was located ten miles from Richmond, on the James River, on the island of Tarkey Island, which was owned by a planter. A seemingly ordinary event acquired a symbolic meaning, coinciding in time with the tragedy that happened in the city: on December 26, the Richmond theater, in which the poet’s mother had recently played, burned down. The misfortune happened during the performance, more than seventy people died in the fire (including not only many actors and spectators, but even the governor of Virginia with his family). The Allan family, who usually did not miss the premiere, would certainly have ended up in the theater, and who knows what the result of this visit could have been if they were there. But Providence saved them and, thus, drew a kind of line under the “theatrical past” of our hero.
In the poet’s biographies, in fact, discussions about the pernicious role of a foster parent in the fate of a stepson have long become a “common place”. The fact that he was a very callous and even cruel person, almost from the very beginning he treated and humiliated the foster child. The facts say otherwise. And at least in the first fourteen or fifteen years of the life of the future poet, there is no need to talk about any “repressions” by John Allan or about conflicts between them. On the contrary, the appearance of a boy in the family occurred with his most active support.
In 1811, when Edgar entered the family, John Allan was thirty-second. His wife Frances was twenty-seven. They had been married for eight years, but they had no children. He could only blame his wife for this: “on the side” at different times and from different women he had children – a boy and a girl. But Frances was childless and suffered greatly from this. Therefore, of course, he could not help but understand the feelings that flared up in the soul of the wife at the sight of the unfortunate offspring of the actress, and supported her desire to take the child to her. Moreover, he was not stopped by the fact that, as some biographers testify, the business of the company at that time did not flourish at all and he even thought about curtailing the business. “Extra mouth” was, of course, a burden, but not such as to resist the desire of his wife. Consequently, John Allan’s hardness of heart is clearly exaggerated. There was another circumstance that prevented him from doing otherwise: at one time he himself knew what orphanhood was, and could not help but sympathize with the boy.
John Allan, of course, played a huge role in the fate of the poet, and it is necessary to acquaint the reader with this man.
As we have already noted, the venerable merchant acquired a new family member at the age of thirty-one. Unlike the rest of the family, he was not an American by birth. He was a Scot, born in 1780 on the southwest coast in Ayrshire, in a village called Dundoland, in a family of hereditary sailors. He lost his parents quite early. He was not yet fifteen when alone, without adults, he was sent across the ocean to his uncle in Richmond. Uncle (mother’s brother), William Gelt, was one of the leading local merchants (twenty years earlier he had followed the same path as his nephew). He traded Virginian tobacco with Britain and Europe, and from there imported goods for which there was a demand from southern planters. The first years in America, young Allan labored in his uncle’s firm, but after five years he decided to start his own business. William Gelt not only did not interfere with his relative, but also provided him with a loan, and already in November 1800, the Ellis and Allan company began its activities. Allan’s partner was a fellow worker in his uncle’s company, Charles Ellis. Each contributed a thousand pounds sterling to the authorized capital of the company.
The partners started their business at the right time. Demand and prices for Virginian tobacco in Europe were high, and competition was the opposite: southern planters who produced tobacco considered it below their dignity to engage in trade. The Yankees were still creating and developing their own North American markets, and newcomers, mainly Irish and Scots, as enterprising as William Galt and John Allan, were expanding their business in the South. The matter was arguing, and my uncle helped – sometimes with advice, and sometimes with connections. The main partners of the firm were merchants from Scotland and England (from London and Liverpool), as well as from Portugal (it is known that in 1811 J. Allan spent several months on business in Lisbon).
In 1804, J. Allan naturalized (that is, became an American citizen). The year before, on February 5, 1803, he had married Miss Frances Killing Valentine, born in Richmond. For some time they lived together, and then (probably after the death of his wife’s parents) they were joined by the unmarried elder sister of Francis – Miss Ann Valentine, known to the poet’s biographers as “Aunt Nancy”, whom (like his adoptive mother) Edgar loved very much and who was also very attached to him.
Despite the fact that in the newly acquired family the boy was surrounded by care and affection, his status was still doubtful. Although Edgar was baptized at the beginning of January 1812 (the son of the actress was not baptized: his mother either did not have time, or did not find the strength for this) and he received his middle name – Allan – in honor of his adoptive father, he did not formally adopt him. There is no doubt that Mrs. Allan really wanted her adopted son to acquire official status – with all the necessary legal formalities. But the husband was in no hurry with this. What was the reason? Many biographers of the poet saw in this circumstance eloquent evidence of Mr. Allan’s malevolent prejudice towards his stepson. Of course, some prejudice cannot be ruled out. But it can hardly be considered unfriendly. People of that era had little understanding of the mechanisms of heredity, but they knew that “the apple does not fall far from the tree.” In this sense, the rational Mr. Allan can be understood: in his perception of Eddie (or Ned, as the family of the future poet was often called) – the son, grandson and great-grandson of actors, the offspring of an alcoholic and a brawler (he knew about the character and pernicious passions of David Poe), son a woman of no high morals. Somewhere in the backstreets of the mind of the Protestant, Presbyterian Allan (a rather religious person), the boy could well have been presented as a kind of “Pandora’s box.” But this is hardly what turned away from official recognition. The problem, or rather a whole series of problems, was something else. First of all, the merchant still continued to hope that in the future his wife would be able to conceive and give birth to her own child: despite poor health, she was still young. The official recognition of Edgar Allan as an adopted son, of course, infringed on the rights of possible future heirs (or heir). There was no clarity with the father of the stepson (his fate was not known for certain): what if he is alive and will eventually lay claim to his son? A certain (primarily procedural) difficulty was also the inevitable interaction with relatives – grandfather, grandmother, uncles and aunts of the adopted child, who lived in Baltimore and Philadelphia. It was necessary to obtain their consent. Although, as far as can be judged from the letters that Mrs. Allan received in 1812 and 1813 from Eliza Poe, the poet’s aunt, none of the relatives there was at all eager to accept little Edgar into their family. Rather, on the contrary, they were grateful to Mrs. Allan and Mrs. Mackenzie for taking care of the younger children of the actress. They had enough worries with the elder – William Henry Leonard[18]. But the legal procedure required interaction with them, and therefore time and money. Hardly a prudent trader wanted this.
It can be assumed that all of these considerations (or at least some of them) were led by Mrs. Allan. And she reluctantly had to agree with them (although, God knows, her soul desired otherwise) and did not insist.
Her husband, a very busy man, treated the boy well, and paid for the expenses not only for clothes, but, perhaps, on his own initiative, bought him toys, took care of his health, went with him in a carriage on country walks. It is not difficult to learn about all this by reading the epistolary heritage of J. Allan[19], especially with his letters to business partner C. Ellis, with whom he was very confidential and often discussed household matters, including writing about Edgar. And if he did not feel much desire to play and mess with him on weekends and holidays, then this can be attributed to the general restraint of his character. At least that’s what Frances thought, and she probably wasn’t far from the truth.
Hervey Allen, the author of the only detailed biography of the great poet accessible to the Russian-speaking reader, wrote on this occasion:
“Who knows, if John Allan had yielded to his wife’s requests, Poe’s fate might have turned out quite differently. Perhaps then the feeling that haunted him for many years would not have arisen that he eats someone else’s bread, that he lives only by the grace of his benefactors – that feeling of his own inferiority, which gave rise in him to an almost painful pride, which eventually became one of the main features of his character. Life, however, disposed of in its own way, depriving Edgar of the reassuring confidence in the indissolubility of the closest bonds that bind people, for their existence, as he discovered over the years, was based on an unreliable foundation of charity. Faith in the inviolability of the hearth and the strength of parental love is the cornerstone that underlies any holistic personality. To destroy or shake it means to doom the soul to eternal anxiety and confusion, for the whole building of life then seems to it erected on treacherous quicksand.
All this is true and, apparently, it is quite applicable to the fate of the future poet. But hardly fair to Edgar the Child and his adoptive parents. To state that “the boy may have felt that even the caresses showered upon his adoptive mother were in fact intended not for him, but for her own unborn child,” as G. Allen writes, means to endow him with consciousness and thoughts , completely inorganic for a little boy. Although Mrs. Allan was not his own mother, he hardly felt it as a child, being (like any child) in his perception of reality the center of a small family universe. Much more destructive for his psyche could be (and apparently became) the total collapse of this personal egocentric universe. But this happened later. Then, when he matured and was able to more or less adequately judge himself and the world.
What can be stated with a certain degree of certainty is that he, of course, lacked paternal and, more generally, male participation in his life. He lived and was brought up in a “feminine atmosphere” – in the constant environment of women. At first this “world” was narrow. It included “mom”, “aunt”, “mommy”. Gradually expanding, he captured new characters: the ladies of Mrs. Allan’s acquaintances, those whom they paid visits to and hosted at home, nurses who were hired when he was ill, a home teacher, etc. But for the most part it was precisely the female world. Who knows, is it not for this reason that Edgar Allan Poe, having already turned into an adult man, preferred female society to male society, feeling much easier and freer in it than among persons of the same sex with him?
If we talk about the early childhood of the writer, then it was most likely, as they say, “cloudless”, one might even say – happy. Edgar grew up in an atmosphere of love and affection. At least from the mother’s side.
G. Allen described the boy’s childhood and the atmosphere in which he grew up in the following way:
“The boy was surprisingly smart and good-looking, and soon became a general favorite not only in the house, but also among numerous acquaintances. Mrs. Allan took great pleasure in taking Edgar with her when she went to visit some of her friends or relatives. On such occasions she dressed him in a handsome corduroy jacket, loose nanke or silk trousers, and a red velvet cap with a gold tassel, from under which long dark curls fell in the manner of an Elizabethan nobleman’s wig. Sitting on a wide sofa and dangling his legs in small shoes with shiny buckles, he looked with a serious look at the ladies gathered in the drawing room in elegant dresses, with ribbons woven into their hair in the fashion of the time, discussing over tea the latest news about the war with England. Sometimes, to amuse society, Edgar was put on a high-backed chair and asked to recite a nursery rhyme. These performances, as they say, invariably evoked delight and tenderness of those present. Even John Allan did not remain indifferent to the young talent, and after family dinners, when the tablecloth was removed, Edgar, throwing off his shoes, climbed onto the table to dance a dance recently learned at school, or, standing in the middle of the hall, with boyish fervour, recited to the guests “Song of the last minstrel.” As a reward for the performance, he was usually poured a small glass of sweet wine diluted with water, which he drank to the health of the audience.
The expressive touches and details mentioned by the biographer, such as “a beautiful corduroy jacket, loose nanke or silk trousers, a red velvet cap with a gold tassel”, the performance on the table of “the dance learned at school”, the public recitation of “The Song of the Last Minstrel” by W. Scott, and the the more “small glass of sweet wine diluted with water” that the little one “drank to the health of the audience” should, of course, be taken as the result of an effort to creatively reconstruct the past, rather than be counted in the department of facts. Nevertheless, the very “air of childhood”, its atmosphere, saturated with joy and fun, G. Allen conveys quite plausibly.
However, the life of a little man in his new family consisted not only of holidays. There were difficulties and trials. For example, diseases. J. Allan, in a letter dated May 14, 1813, writes to C. Ellis about Edgar’s whooping cough, and reports that “Frances is upset and walks with her face swollen with tears.” On May 18, he shares the news that “they are already better.” But on July 26 he sends the message that the stepson “was seriously ill with measles, but now he is on the mend.”
It was a real ordinary life. Tests that only bring the family together. And they, of course, brought the baby closer to his adoptive mother. What about the adoptive father? Hardly. Although, as we can see, he was also involved in the daily life of the family, the main thing for him was still the Business – the trading operations in which he was engaged. And family news, if they surfaced in his correspondence, then on the periphery – after information about tobacco prices, tariffs for transportation and “customs clearance”, percentage of profits and credit.
But the mention of the home teacher inevitably brings us to the most important topic – the education of the poet. John Allan many years later, when his stepson from a child had long turned into a young man, claimed that he had given him a much better education than he himself had. Regardless of the context in which this statement was made, one can hardly blame the stepfather for insincerity – it is quite true.
Apparently, little Edgar received the beginnings of his letters at home – from his foster mother and Aunt Nancy. But already in the autumn of 1813, the boy had a home teacher – this can be judged by a four-dollar check issued by J. Allan to a certain Clotilde Fisher for “educating Edgar A. Poe for a quarter of a year.” In addition to the very fact of the existence of the document, it is also important that Mrs. Allan calls Mrs. Fisher “doctor”. Therefore, the teacher was a certified specialist and, most likely, graduated from the seminary[20]. It is clear that Mr. Allan took the issue of primary education for his stepson very seriously and hired a teacher with a higher education. In America at that time, teachers with diplomas were a rarity.
In the autumn of 1814, Edgar went to school. What kind of school it was, what subjects were taught in it – we can judge this only indirectly. Most likely, the set of subjects was quite ordinary for the primary level, but it was a good school. In any case, Mr. Allan would not give his stepson to another. And the point is not even in a personal attitude towards him: social status would not allow him to opt for something other than “the best”. Indirect evidence of the “quality” of the school can also serve as a letter from its director, Mr. Ewing, to Mr. Allan, in which the mentor inquires about his ward.
“I’m sure Edgar’s business continues to go well and he likes the new school, just as he liked the one he attended in Richmond. He is a wonderful boy, and I will be pleased to hear how he is doing in the school that you have determined for him, and it is also interesting to know what books he reads . .. Please also convey my respects to your wife Mrs. Allan and her sister. I hope they are doing well, and don’t forget to say hello for me to Edgar, whom they nurture so much.
The letter is dated November 1817. By that time, the boy had already lived in England for two years and studied at another school. Nevertheless, the former teacher inquired about his former pupil. And the point, apparently, is not in the special love that he felt for one of his many students. It’s just that in a “decent school” – “it’s customary.”
The venerable merchant did not answer the question about what his apprentice was reading. Probably not paying attention – he had more important things to do. But, as is customary among “decent people,” he thanked him:
“Please accept my gratitude for speaking so flatteringly about Edgar and our family. Edgar is a good boy and I have no reason to complain about his progress.”
The W. Ewing School (located in downtown Richmond, not far from Mr. Allan’s office and apartment) was attended by the child for a year. To all appearances, he excelled at school, little school tricks came easily to him, and he was listed among the first pupils of his class. But, apparently, many succeeded. What really distinguished him among his comrades was that he was very lively and restless, he loved noisy games.
Little is known about his friends during this period – and is it even possible to speak of “friends” of a six-year-old boy? In the case of little Edgar, it turns out you can. He had a friend, or rather a girlfriend, little Miss Katherine Potew, goddaughter of Frances Allan. According to contemporaries, there was not even friendship between the children, but some kind of simply irrepressible passion to communicate with each other. In the year when Edgar went to school, they saw each other very often, started rowdy games or did something and … constantly declared their love (!). Childhood memory is short, but even a year later, little Katherine remembered her “cordial friend”, and her mother, according to her daughter, wrote to her friend in England: “Tell him that I really want to see him . ..” And, apparently, having realized , added: “… tell him that Josephine and all the children really want to see him too …” “Josephine and all the children” are those who took part in the games in which our hero was the constant ringleader. Let us add that not only “Josephine”, but “and all the children” were girls. Our hero, we recall: perhaps, due to circumstances, in early childhood he was surrounded mainly by the fair sex.
The first school year of the future poet ended in June 1815. The end of the study period coincided with a very important event – Mr. Allan announced that they were moving to England. As biographers testify, the merchant had long nurtured such plans and, apparently, already in 1811 he was going to implement them. The mentioned trip of the trader to Lisbon was also connected with these plans. That was the height of the Napoleonic Wars, which shook Europe. The United States did not directly participate in the war, but maritime trade suffered greatly from the British blockade. Apparently, the trip to Portugal did not bring the desired results, and soon America entered into an open confrontation with the British, and the second Anglo-American war (1812-1815) began. She put an end to Allan’s plans – he had to postpone the venture for several years.
But in the spring of 1815 the war ended and the merchant was going to England. His correspondence relating to this period eloquently testifies that he went there for a long time, if not forever. He vacated the apartment above the office, removed and sold part of the property. Already on the road, from Norfolk, on June 22, he wrote to C. Ellis to rent out the slaves at a price of $ 50 a year, and sell the young Scipio (apparently the most valuable) for $ 600.
The war “strangled” trade, things got confused, revenues fell, the condition and financial situation of many counterparties was unclear. In these circumstances, the establishment of a firm operating in the UK in the interests of partners, conceived by Allan and Ellis, was completely justified.