I never really knew my older brother. He was married and had a child of his own before I was born. Darcy was born in October of 1928. My Mom and Dad just barely out of their teens. They had actually been married secretly in 1926 and did not tell anyone of the marriage until a year later. After the marriage they each went home to their respective houses. They obviously found ways of getting together because a year later my mother announced she was pregnant with Darcy. When they made the announcement they moved in with my father’s parents on Logan Avenue, in Toronto. My Dad got a job with Underwood Typewriter and climbed the ranks rather quickly until he had a decent position with them. They helped out with the finances with Dad’s parents and did not have much to spare, but life was good. They tried in vain to have a second child but it seemed it was not to be. Once they moved into their own place on Warland Avenue and after much discussion about another child Lilly and Kelly decided that perhaps adoption would be an option. They both longed for a larger family and I think my mother wanted a little girl. No one can imagine how much time goes by when making a life changing decision but by the time all was in order for an adoption the year was 1941. My brother was already 13 years old. My mother had been told by her doctor that there was no possibility for her to become pregnant again and this was their only option for more children. Now I was not around at the time but I remember my mother telling me that the process was a difficult one. Such a choice cannot be taken lightly. However one day while at the orphanage they saw her and knew at once that this was the one. Judith Ann Whittingham born December 26th 1942 was just an infant when my parents saw her. For whatever the circumstances, her mother, a young unmarried girl was not in a position to keep her. Mom always said that she must have found the decision to give up the child very difficult because she did name her. Mom thought that if she had not cared then the baby would have been nameless. Back in the 1940’s the process of adopting a child was not as difficult as it is today and the baby came home with my parents shortly after her birth. They renamed her Penelope Frances Bell, and called her Pene, and they loved her dearly. I was told she was a good baby and easy to care for, growing in leaps and bounds and bringing joy to the young couple. She was cherub faced with blonde hair and sky blue eyes. Soft and dimpled as all babies are. It would be not until the third of May 1945 that the adoption would be final. This was very trying on my mother as feared greatly that she might lose the child until the adoption was finalized. We have many pictures of Pene. They took her to Mayers Studios, a professional photography studio in Toronto just after the adoption was finalized and had a photo session where many pictures were taken. Most are black and white but there was one that was colourized in soft tones. The picture now hangs on my niece’s wall. Pene was wearing a soft pink dress with short puffy sleeves, banded at the edge typical of the era. My mother had made the dress and the top is smocked with pale blue thread. A tiny gold locket hangs around her neck. Her pale yellow hair is cut ear length, parted on the side and brushed neatly awar from her face. The rosy colour in her cheeks compliment the dress. He tiny hands envelop her face with inquisition. Everything is almost transparent and spiritual. Those pictures were taken in May. By July she would be gone. Pene’s room remained untouched for quite some time. The door closed, my mother unable to enter. My father decided to sell the house. The pond was a constant reminder of their loss. My mother got pregnant March of the following year at age 39. Who could ever explain how that happened, when she had been told she would never have any more children. At age 43 she would have yet another child. Both were girls.
Article in the Toronto Telegram
Child Reaching Into Pond For Goldfish Was Drowned In 18 Inches Of Water Penelope Bell, aged two and a half, of 32 Wolverton ave, was drowned yesterday afternoon when she fell into a goldfish pond in the garden of a Warland ave. home, in East York. Two years ago a two-year-old boy was drowned in a six-inch-deep lily pond in Don Woods drive in York Mills, while playing around a neighbor’s pool. The girl, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. K. R. Bell, had been put out in her yard to play shortly after 1 p.m. by her mother. In some manner she got out and wandered to the rear of the Warland ave. address, where the small pond contains three goldfish. It is believed that the child was leaning over the edge of the pond attempting to pick up one of the shiny fish when she lost her balance. She fell face downward and drown in 18 inches of water. When Mrs Bell discovered her child missing she started searching the neighborhood, and it was the mother who found her baby in the fish pond. She was rushed to the Toronto East General Hospital, but she was pronounced dead on arrival. Coroner W. J. O’Hara has announced that no inquest will be held. "It is one of the most tragic accidents in the history of the township,” said the coroner. “It is the first of its kind that I know of.””
My parent’s best friend Ken Samis wrote a poem in her honour.
TO PENE
To good for this world was our Pene bright, Too sweet to be here for long; She came for awhile and our hearts were light, Her laughter was sweet as a song.
She smiled – and our hearts were opened wide, She beckoned and all drew near; Her life was all cheer and she seldom cried, Her eyes were not wide with fear.
As a tender blossom she was so fair, And she marvelled at beauty around; And the gold in the pool which called to her there, Was new beauty she had found.
Too fair, too bright to remain here long, Away from Heaven – her home; She’s gone to sweeten the angels’ song, As it swells to Heaven’s dome.
Uncle Ken July 30th 1946
Penelope Frances Bell December 26th 1942 – July 6th 1945