Mary Lennox and Martha Sowerby (friends)

The friendship between Mary Lennox and Martha Sowerby is one of the earliest and most transformative relationships Mary forms after her arrival at Misselthwaite Manor. Martha, the young housemaid who lights Mary's fire each morning, is unlike any servant Mary has ever known. Where Mary is used to the obsequious, salaaming native servants of India who never questioned her commands, Martha is a round, rosy, good-natured Yorkshire girl who speaks her mind with blunt frankness and expects Mary to learn to do things for herself. Their first encounters are marked by sharp clashes of culture and temperament, but out of these conflicts a genuine, healing friendship slowly emerges.

First Encounters and Cultural Clash

On Mary's very first morning at the manor, Martha wakes her by kneeling on the hearth-rug and raking out the cinders noisily. When Mary, pointing out of the window, asks what the great stretch of land is, Martha answers in broad Yorkshire, "That's th' moor," and adds with a good-natured grin, "Does tha' like it?" Mary replies, "No. I hate it." Martha is not offended but explains that Mary will come to like it, just as she herself loves it for its sweet-smelling growing things and fresh air. Mary, accustomed to servants who made salaams and called her "protector of the poor," finds Martha's equality startling. She wonders what this sturdy girl would do if slapped in the face, and suspects Martha might slap back. When Mary imperiously asks if Martha is to be her servant, Martha stoutly replies that she is Mrs. Medlock's servant, though she will "wait on you a bit." The most explosive moment comes when Martha admits she had thought Mary, coming from India, might be black. Mary flies into a rage, calling Martha a "daughter of a pig" and insisting that natives "are not people—they're servants who must salaam to you." Overwhelmed by her own fury and a sudden, horrible loneliness, Mary throws herself on the pillows and bursts into passionate sobbing. Martha, genuinely sorry, begs her pardon and comforts her with her queer Yorkshire speech and sturdy way, which has a good effect on Mary. This raw, honest exchange—so different from the servile deference Mary knew in India—becomes the unlikely foundation of their friendship.

Growing Trust and Mutual Affection

As the days pass, Mary begins to forget to resent Martha's familiar talk and even finds it interesting. She is sorry when Martha stops talking or goes away. Martha's stories about her mother and her brother Dickon, and about the moorland cottage where fourteen people live in four rooms, captivate Mary and give her a window into a world of warmth and healthy struggle. Mary begins to like Martha, a significant step for a child who had never before cared for anyone. When Martha gives Mary a skipping-rope—bought with two pennies from her own wages on her mother's urging—Mary is deeply moved. She thanks Martha stiffly, not used to expressing gratitude, and holds out her hand. Martha gives it a clumsy little shake, equally unaccustomed to such formality, and laughs. Mary asks, "Do you want me to kiss you?" and Martha laughs again, saying no, but that if Mary were different she might want to herself. This awkward, honest moment captures the tentative but real affection growing between them. Mary later tells Martha, "You do cheer me up. I like to hear you talk." Martha, in turn, becomes Mary's confidante and ally, helping her write a letter to Dickon to order garden tools and seeds, and eventually acting as the go-between for Mary's secret visits to Colin.

The Friendship's Role in Mary's Transformation

Martha's influence on Mary is profound and practical. She teaches Mary to dress herself, to pick up things she drops, and to eat heartily—all skills Mary had never needed in India, where servants did everything. Martha's blunt Yorkshire honesty forces Mary to see herself more clearly. When Martha asks, "How does tha' like thysel'?" Mary hesitates and answers, "Not at all—really. But I never thought of that before." This moment of self-reflection is a turning point. Martha also becomes Mary's link to the wider world of the moor and the Sowerby family, introducing her to the idea of Dickon and his animal friends, and to the warmth of a mother who, though she has never met Mary, sends her a skipping-rope and later arranges for her to visit the cottage. When Mary discovers Colin and confides in Martha, Martha is terrified of losing her place, but Mary reassures her, and Colin himself orders Martha to bring Mary to him. Martha, though frightened, becomes a crucial part of the secret, and her loyalty to both children deepens. By the end of the story, Mary has grown from a sour, isolated child into a healthier, happier one, and Martha's steady, good-natured friendship has been an essential part of that change. Martha's mother, Susan Sowerby, later remarks that "children needs children," and Martha, as the first real friend Mary ever had, embodies that truth.