Charlie Chaplin was a successful comedian and acted in many of the silent movies of the 1920s. Read the following story to find out how his mother and an event in his childhood played a part in starting off his career as a comedian.

I was born on April 16, 1889, at eight o’clock at night in London. According to Mother, my world was a happy one. Our circumstances were moderately comfortable; we lived in three tastefully furnished rooms. One of my early memories was that each night before Mother went to the theater, my brother, Sydney, and I were lovingly tucked up in a comfortable bed and left in the care of the housemaid.

Mother was a singer on the variety stage. She had fair skin, violet-blue eyes and long light- brown hair that she could sit upon. I adored my mother. Though she was not an exceptional beauty, I thought she looked lovely.

In her late twenties, Mother suffered from laryngitis, but she had to keep working as we had no other means of financial support. As a result, her voice grew progressively worse. She could not rely on it. In the middle of singing, it would crack or suddenly fade into a whisper, and the audience would laugh and start booing.

It was because of her voice that at the age of five I made my first appearance on stage. Mother usually took me to the theater at night in preference to leaving me alone in rented rooms. She was working at a dirty, mean theater. The audience was mostly noisy and rough soldiers who needed no excuse to laugh and ridicule. To performers, the theater was a place of terror.

I remember standing back stage when Mother’s voice cracked and went into a whisper. The audience began to laugh and make fun of her. It was all vague, and I did not quite understand what was going on.

But the noise increased until Mother had to leave the stage. When she came back stage, she was very upset. She argued with the stage manager who, having seen me perform before Mother’s friends, suggested that I go on in her place.

In the turmoil, I remember him leading me by the hand to the stage. After a few words of explanation to the audience, he left me on the stage alone. Then, I started to sing, accompanied by the orchestra.

Halfway through, a shower of money poured onto the stage. Immediately I stopped and announced that I would pick up the money first and sing afterward. This caused much laughter. The stage manager came on with a handkerchief and helped me to gather it up. I thought he was going to keep it.

This thought was conveyed to the audience and their laughter increased, especially when he walked off with it, with me anxiously following him. Not until he handed it to Mother did I return and continue to sing. I was quite at home. I talked to the audience, danced and did several imitations, including one of Mother singing her Irish march song.

And in all innocence, I imitated Mother’s voice cracking and was surprised at the impact it had on the audience. There was laughter and cheers, then more money- throwing; when Mother came on stage to carry me off, her presence evoked tremendous applause. That night was my first appearance on the stage and Mother’s last.