“The British are coming!”
Was this the famous Paul Revere, calling his warning in Boston? No! It was a lady in the White House. She came running into the State Dining Room after we left President Lincoln. It was another place and another time.
George recognized this lady. “Mrs. Madison? Mrs. Dolley Madison, my old friend!”
“Who’s she?” asked Dee.
I read from my book, then wrote it in my notebook. “Dolley Madison is First Lady to James Madison, fourth president of the United States.”
“President Washington,” said Mrs. Madison, trying to catch her breath, “I need your help! The British are coming! They’re going to burn down the house!”
George scratched his head. “The British? But we already defeated them in the Revolutionary War!”
Dee said, “I guess this is another war!”
“Another war?” asked Washington.
José shook his head sadly. “Dude, so many wars.”
“The book says it is the War of 1812,” I told them. Mrs. Madison nodded. “President Madison is away, fighting at the front, and everything will turn to ashes! This beautiful house will be destroyed!”
José looked around nervously. “Maybe we should get out of here.”
“Mrs. Madison,” said George, “you and the children must leave. The house is not safe.”
Mrs. Madison shook her head. Her face was kind but determined. “No, I can’t leave yet. I must save the most important item in the entire house. That’s why I came to the State Dining Room.”
The most important item? I wondered what it was. Then I remembered. Mrs. Madison was talking about the painting!
“Please, Mrs. Madison, just go,” begged George.
“But your portrait, I must save it!” she said. “It’s what I’m remembered for!”
José glanced over at us. “She’s right. We can’t leave that behind.”
“We can’t let President Washington burn to ashes!” I added.
“Yes, you can!” said George. “I’m just oil paint and canvas.”
“You’re valuable!” said Dee.
“You’re art!” added José.
“You’re history!” I told him.
We heard crashing and shouting outside. George looked worried.
“I command you all to leave!” he said.
Believe it or not, we didn’t obey. Instead we listened to the lady with the strong voice. “Children, help me take down the painting!”
José rushed over and tried to remove it. “It won’t budge. Someone bolted it down!”
Dee looked at George, with pleading in her eyes. “We can’t get it off the wall. But we have to!”
“Who cares?” said George. “It’s just a picture! And the British are getting closer!”
Dee and I tried to help José. It was no use. We had to leave the painting behind. It reminded me of all the things my family had left behind in Poland—big things, important things.
George led us outside. We stood beside him on the front lawn.
Next to me Dee took a gold pendant from around her neck and held it close to her. “If my house was on fire, I’d save this pendant, because it has a picture of my parents and me when I was a baby. If I didn’t have the pendant, then I might not remember who I was.”
José reached into his pocket and pulled out an old coin made of silver. “My father gave this to my mom, who gave it to me. It’s more than just money. It keeps me close to my family.”
I tried to think of what I would save if my house was on fire. Suddenly I knew.“I would save this notebook,” I told them. “It’s special because I write down stories and thoughts in both languages. If I did not exist anymore, the notebook would let people know I was a real person. It’s like the history . . . of me.”
Just then a door opened and someone walked out of the White House. It was Dolley Madison. She was carrying something that was wrapped in a blanket.
“When my house was on fire,” she told us, “this is what I saved.”
Mrs. Madison unwrapped the blanket. The painting was inside!
