In 1944, World War II was still raging, especially for English children. My father had been left with five children that he could not handle, and then we found ourselves in a strange place, an Orphanage in the Lake District of Great Britain. Many times, our nieces and nephews have asked my sisters and me about our time in the Orphanage, and I have promised them a book for years. I finally felt I could dredge up what I had pushed down for so long. These are stories about our lives, as well as some of the girls, in the home from 1944 to 1952, my memories of events that happened, good and bad, in those eight years. In many ways, that time gave me determination and fortitude to press on regardless, and I hope the remembering, even though a bit painful, helps in your understanding.