The Poor Relation’s Story Page #4

"The Poor Relation’s Story" is a short story by Charles Dickens that explores themes of social class and family dynamics through the perspective of a poor relation who feels both isolated and connected to his wealthier relatives. The narrative unfolds during a festive gathering, where the protagonist reflects on the nuances of familial relationships, the stigma of poverty, and the longing for acceptance. With Dickens' characteristic blend of humor and poignancy, the story highlights the complexities of human emotions and the societal divide between the affluent and the less fortunate.

• Short story

								

and am above all moderate wants and anxieties.  My Castle is not a
splendid place, but it is very comfortable, and it has a warm and
cheerful air, and is quite a picture of Home.

Our eldest girl, who is very like her mother, married John Spatter’s
eldest son.  Our two families are closely united in other ties of
attachment.  It is very pleasant of an evening, when we are all assembled
together—which frequently happens—and when John and I talk over old
times, and the one interest there has always been between us.

I really do not know, in my Castle, what loneliness is.  Some of our
children or grandchildren are always about it, and the young voices of my
descendants are delightful—O, how delightful!—to me to hear.  My dearest
and most devoted wife, ever faithful, ever loving, ever helpful and
sustaining and consoling, is the priceless blessing of my house; from
whom all its other blessings spring.  We are rather a musical family, and
when Christiana sees me, at any time, a little weary or depressed, she
steals to the piano and sings a gentle air she used to sing when we were
first betrothed.  So weak a man am I, that I cannot bear to hear it from
any other source.  They played it once, at the Theatre, when I was there
with Little Frank; and the child said wondering, “Cousin Michael, whose
hot tears are these that have fallen on my hand!”

Such is my Castle, and such are the real particulars of my life therein
preserved.  I often take Little Frank home there.  He is very welcome to
my grandchildren, and they play together.  At this time of the year—the
Christmas and New Year time—I am seldom out of my Castle.  For, the
associations of the season seem to hold me there, and the precepts of the
season seem to teach me that it is well to be there.

                                * * * * *

“And the Castle is—” observed a grave, kind voice among the company.

“Yes.  My Castle,” said the poor relation, shaking his head as he still
looked at the fire, “is in the Air.  John our esteemed host suggests its
situation accurately.  My Castle is in the Air!  I have done.  Will you
be so good as to pass the story?”
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