It was

the forms of our diligence, the meek
demeanor, the tongue held in check
that pleased the elders. We held back
our appetites, letting others go first, 
whether that meant the heel of a loaf 
or a last pail of bath water. But it was 
their strange admiration of those unlike 
us—their friends'  fair children who spoke 
impeccable English and were fluent in
French or Italian, and knew how to be 
cheeky in all of them. They traveled. 
They carried themselves with a certain 
élan. It was the impossible, the alluring 
contradiction between home and the world.