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By Marie Berger ISBN: 978-1-84747-189-5 Published: 2007 Pages: 184 Key Themes: Description This emotional turbulent and poignant book tells the story of Marie Berger's dicovery that she was adopted. Marie only discovered this fact when her mother passed away and she cuaght a glimpse of hert birth certificate. The book decribes Marie's childhood and chronicles how she felt in finding that she was adopted. This is an intensely moving and excellently written book. About the Author Marie Berger was born in May 1945 in Reading, Berkshire. She trained to become a teacher and is also a qualified masseuse. She is now an author by profession and lives with her husband and her children in Lincoln. She is fond of travelling, foreign languages, pastel drawing and of course her writing. Book Extract On the doormat is a letter. I pick it up. I don't recognise the handwriting. It's postmarked New York, United States of America. I only know of one person who lives there. And it couldn't possibly be from her.could it? Feverishly I tear open the envelope, unfold the notepaper. My mind's in a whirl. It's impossible to take in the words. They swim across my line of vision. The bits I manage to read here and there don't make sense. I don't know how long I've been standing here mesmerised. My mind's blank. The neat script is dancing before my eyes. This can't be happening. It must be a dream. I blink rapidly, shake my head, and try to focus on reality. But there's no way I can get a grip on myself standing like a zombie here in the hallway. I must get out. I put on my coat, wander bewildered into the first cafe I come to. I sit in a corner, order a coffee, sip the hot liquid. I can't stop shivering. I hold my breath, force myself to start at the beginning, concentrate on each word. I begin to read. Dear Marie Teresa, I really don't know how to begin. Aunt Maud and Aunt Margaret came to visit me a week ago. I hadn't seen them for twenty-five years and they waited a week before telling me about you. They were scared. They gave me your letters and the lovely photos of the children I had never told anyone but Lorne, my husband. Marie Teresa, it wasn't on your birthday I thought of you. My heart cried out for you every day. When I had you I had no one to turn to and then I had to work and it was so hard to find anyone to take care of you. It wasn't like today. I gave you up so you would have a happy life with a mother and a father. I was never given their address and I knew years later that I should have taken you to Belfast to your granny but I thought the shock would kill them. When you were born you were the image of your grandpa.

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