Lizzie, Lizbet, Lisa, Beth, Betsy, was named Elizabeth when she was born, by her Mother, a Polish immigrant who fled Poland during the Second World War. Her Mother was so grateful to Britain for saving her, that she couldn’t think of anything more apt than naming her daughter after the Queen.
Lizzie was brought up tri-lingual, speaking German and Polish with her Mother and English with her Father.
When Lizzie started school, she confused her teachers by sometimes speaking in Polish or German, so much so that she was told not to continue. Her Mother was advised that teaching her daughter was detrimental to her development, so she stopped.
Lizzie was a very studious child, enjoying every aspect of school life, but English and Music were her favourite subjects and she excelled at both of them. She was a kind, gentle girl, very happy to take the back seat and watch others. She had lots of friends, but one in particular was very close.
Her Father was an outgoing man, with many hidden talents, he worked in a factory, but in his spare time, he wrote poetry, painted and was generally very knowledgeable. A staunch Labour supporter, he went on to become a Union representative at work.
Memories of Lizzie when she was young are mixed with her parent’s influence. She still chatted to her Mother in either German or Polish, much to my confusion. She would sometimes ask me questions, not realising that she wasn’t speaking English. Her Father has painted a whole wall in their lounge with a mural of the Polish countryside, with hills and a river running through the valley, trees lining the side of the slopes. He painted this from his wife’s description, while she was in hospital having Lizzie’s baby brother, Martin.