American Triumph: 1939-1945: 4 STORIES IN 1

by Susan Martins Miller, Norma Jean Lutz, Bonnie Hinman

  “She’s Mexican,” Mr. Decker said.

  “So what?” Mrs. Madden challenged him.

  With a gasp, Rosa realized they were arguing about her. The last thing she wanted was to get Mrs. Madden into trouble.

  “So why did she sign up to enter the contest?” Mr. Elliot asked.

  “Why shouldn’t she?” Mrs. Madden was not giving up. “I find nothing in the rules that forbids her from entering.”

  “Miz Madden, with all due respect, we’ve got our ways. I understand you’re the preacher’s wife, but you ain’t been in this town very long.”

  “I’ve been here long enough to know you’re being unfair to the Mexican children!” Mrs. Madden exclaimed.

  “Well, ma’am, I beg to differ,” Mr. Decker said. “We’ve made sure they have a school of their own, after all.”

  “A school where they don’t learn but play all day.”

  “That ain’t true, Miz Madden,” objected Mr. Elliot, as he twisted his mustache between two fingers.

  “It most certainly is. You have deprived a little girl with a wonderful mind by not giving her a teacher to challenge her.”

  “I hear she’s been studying with you.”

  “That’s right. She’s got one of the most curious minds I’ve ever seen in my years of teaching. You may as well know that I intend to make sure that when school opens again in the fall, all the children will go to school together.”

  “What exactly do you mean by that, Miz Madden?” Mr. Decker spoke with a harsh tone.

  “You know what I mean,” Mrs. Madden answered firmly. “No more separate schools. Give them all the opportunity to learn on an equal basis. I have already spoken to the mayor and to several members of the school board.”

  “I can’t believe they’re too happy about that notion.”

  “Education is not supposed to make the school board happy. It’s supposed to help children learn.”

  “We’d all be happy if things was that simple,” Mr. Decker said. “But they ain’t.”

  “They can be,” Mrs. Madden insisted. “And if I have anything to say about it, they will be. Now I think it would be best if you gentlemen were on your way.”

  Rosa scampered back to the table where she had left her arithmetic paper.

  When she came back inside, Mrs. Madden forced a smile. “I’ll just get us some cold lemonade,” she said.

  Henry whimpered, and Rosa picked him up and held him tightly. She thought, Henry, I sure hope your mama knows what she’s doing.

  CHAPTER 6

  Happy Birthday, Rosa

  At first Rosa thought she should stop going to see Mrs. Madden. She did not want Mrs. Madden or Henry to be hurt. While she dreamed of going to school with the white children, she hated the thought of people being angry with the Maddens. Rosa thought Mrs. Madden was the kindest person in the world.

  But Mrs. Madden insisted that Rosa keep coming every morning. All summer they kept up their lessons. Rosa learned faster and faster. The books she took home to read at night were harder and longer than the ones she started with. She began to make up math stories for Mrs. Madden to solve. Henry adored Rosa and greeted her with a slobbery kiss every day. In their own little world, the three of them looked forward to being together every day. Nothing made Rosa happier.

  Still, Rosa worried. Maybe Mrs. Madden should stop talking to the mayor and the school board. Rosa was sure she was learning as much from Mrs. Madden as she would at the school with the white children. Maybe she was learning more. After all, she had her own private teacher.

  When the deadline came to turn in her essay, Rosa almost told Mrs. Madden that she had lost it. But she knew Mrs. Madden would not believe that. “How brave can you be?” Mrs. Madden asked her again and again. So Rosa turned in the essay right before her birthday in the middle of the summer and waited anxiously for the judges to make their decision.

  Mamá and Papá did their best to plan a party for Rosa’s birthday, but no one felt like celebrating. Inside or outside, the heat was suffocating. If they were lucky enough to have ice to put in their glasses of water, it melted almost immediately. Rosa had begun to count the really hot days that were over a hundred degrees, but she lost count because there were so many. Even when she sat in the shade, she felt as if she were on fire under her skin.

  Isabella was big enough now to roll over and sit up. Rosa knew babies were supposed to be curious about the world around them. But Isabella was too hot to move around very much. On the hottest days, Isabella smiled only when Rosa wiped a wet cloth over her soft skin. One day, Rosa said to Isabella, “At least you’re a baby and you only have to wear a diaper.” Rosa’s sweat was like glue, making her own clothes stick to her skin.

  Tía and Mamá cried about the vegetable garden. Rosa saw them, but they did not see her. In the past, they had grown enough vegetables to feed the whole family all summer and still have plenty for the winter. Now the well had begun to go dry, so they did not dare carry water to the garden anymore. Every drop of water was precious to the family. The carrots weren’t growing into the ground the way they should. Instead, they were stubby knobs of orange just below the surface. The whole garden looked as if it had been scorched with a hot flame. Even if the skies broke out with rain for the rest of the summer, it was too late to save the garden. One day, Mamá gave up on the carrots and collected all the green carrot tops to eat with supper.

  Papá stopped using his truck. Gasoline cost too much money, and he was afraid the dust would ruin the engine. Already, the engine made strange sounds when he tried to start the truck. Papá and Tío rode horses through the fields and pastures, looking for anything the cattle could eat. Even the weeds were not growing well. Tío kept saying it would rain soon, but Papá had decided not to plant a crop. He did not want to waste the seed. They would save it for a better season or feed it to the chickens and pigs.

  One night when she could not sleep because it was too hot, Rosa heard Papá tell Mamá that he was afraid he could not keep the range cattle alive much longer. Some would die from starvation before long because they had no grass to eat. Others ate the dirt and got sick from that. He was thinking of telling the owner of the ranch to sell most of the cattle now while he still could. The cattle were too thin to be worth as much as they should be, but at least they were still alive.

  Papá also thought they should try to sell Old Hombre, Juan’s favorite pig. The animal was still nice and fat. He could bring a good price. Or they could slaughter the pig so they could eat the meat themselves. Rosa was tired of beans and of lard sandwiches, but she hated the thought of eating Old Hombre!

  The dusty winds continued to blow. Rosa could not count the times that she had washed dishes only to wash them again right before her family used them. That was the only way to be sure they could eat off of clean plates. She was constantly brushing dirt off her skirts and blouses.

  Mamá made a cake for Rosa’s birthday and served it outside in the late evening, after dark. Even then, it was so hot Rosa hardly wanted to move. She lay on a blanket on the ground, wishing she could feel soft green grass under her bare feet instead of stubby dust and pebbles. Isabella was beside her and had finally fallen asleep. The grown-ups sat in chairs and talked.

  “The problem is the soil,” Papá said. “We did not take care of it the years we had rain. We thought we would always have rain.”

  “That was our chance to earn some money,” Tío said. “The crops were growing so well.”

  “We should not have tried to grow so much,” Papá said. “We took all the nutrients out of the soil. Then the winds blew away the empty soil.”

  Téodoro spoke up. “Farming and ranching are not the only way to make a living.”

  “What do you mean, Téodoro?” Papá asked. “Before the rains stopped, this land was perfect for ranching and farming.”

  “I’m talking about California,” Téodoro said. “There are jobs out there. They have plenty of rain. The trees will be heavy with fruit in the
fall and winter. The farmers need people to pick the fruit and get it shipped out.”

  Tío nodded. “I know what you’re talking about. I see the cars on the highway all the time. People pack up everything they own and go to California, looking for work.”

  “There are jobs there,” Téodoro said again.

  “But the pay is very little,” Papá said. “We would all have to work, even Rosa. We would not be able to find that many jobs.”

  “I could find one job,” Téodoro said. “I won’t need much if I am by myself. I can send money back to you.”

  “No!” Mamá exclaimed. “No one leaves this family. Pedro, tell your son to forget about such nonsense.”

  Papá nodded. “I think your mamá is right, Téodoro. It is best if we stay together.”

  Rosa heard Téodoro’s feet scuffing around in the dirt. Her brother kept silent, but she knew he would not stop thinking about California.

  “The answer may come soon,” Papá said. “The government is talking about holding a demonstration project right in our town.”

  Tío looked up, puzzled. “Demonstration? What do you mean?”

  “They are learning new ways to take care of the soil and still grow crops. A demonstration project will show us all how it’s done so that we can do the same thing on our own land.”

  “Even the government needs rain,” Tío said. “We have lost our crop again this year. If we get some rain in the fall, perhaps we can grow winter wheat. We need rain, not a government project.”

  “Still, I would like to see it. We might learn something useful.”

  Rosa smiled in the dark. She was glad to hear her father say that he wanted to learn about something new. He had never said that before. Maybe now, he would understand why she wanted to go to a good school so badly.

  Two days after she turned eleven years old, Rosa sat in the kitchen eating beans and rice for lunch. She was hoping Mamá would make some bread, but she knew it was too hot to have the oven on. Rosa lifted the saucer off her glass, gulped some of the liquid, and covered the glass again.

  Mamá wiped dust off the table—again. That was the third time that day.

  “Rosita, please go get the mail.”

  Rosa sighed but said, “Yes, Mamá.” The mailbox was a quarter of a mile away. She had already walked to Mrs. Madden’s house and back. Now it was the hottest part of the day, and she wanted to find the coolest place she could and stay there. But she finished her lunch and began the walk to the mailbox.

  As soon as she opened the box and looked in, Rosa began to tremble. The box held only one envelope, and it had her name on it! Nervously, she pulled the envelope out of the box and stared at the address on the front. Yes, it was her name and address. The envelope was from the essay judges. Rosa swallowed hard as she considered whether to open the envelope or not. “It’s a letter telling me I did not win,” Rosa said aloud as she started to walk back toward the house. “I’ll take it to Mrs. Madden tomorrow.”

  Halfway to the house, Rosa’s curiosity got the best of her, and she gently tore off one end of the envelope. The letter slid out. She unfolded it and read it, her hands shaking the whole time.

  Dear Miss Sanchez,

  This letter is to inform you that you have been selected as winner of first prize in this year’s civic history contest. Your thoughtful, insightful essay showed a great deal of sincerity and affection for this country. Congratulations! We will hold a ceremony to honor the first-, second-, and third-place winners. At this time, we will ask you to read your essay to the audience. We look forward to seeing you on that occasion.

  Sincerely,

  Civic Contest Awards Committee

  Rosa picked up the hem of her skirt and ran as fast as she could in her bare feet. Now she hardly felt the heat.

  “I won!” she screamed as she got close to the house. “I won!”

  Mamá and Tía came outside.

  “Hija, what in the world are you talking about?”

  “The contest! I won the contest, Mamá! I got a letter.” Rosa showed her mother the letter, even though Mamá did not know how to read English.

  Mamá threw her arms around Rosa, and they spun around together. “My Rosita has won a prize!”

  “I have to go show Mrs. Madden,” Rosa said, breaking free of her mother’s embrace. She raced down the road, not caring how much she sweated.

  Mrs. Madden beamed with pride when she saw the letter.

  “I knew you could do it, Rosa. You know more about American history than all the other children who entered. Of course you can explain why you love America.”

  “Will you go with me to the ceremony?” Rosa asked. “I won’t know what to do.”

  “Of course, I’ll go. And Henry will go, too. After all, he’s the one who had all the questions about American history.”

  Rosa laughed. “When he’s old enough to write, he will win all the contests.”

  “I’m so proud of you, Rosa. Now the school board will have to listen to me. They will see what happens when any student works as hard as you have. May I have this letter to show to the mayor?”

  Rosa was so flushed she could hardly speak.

  “Rosa, you look like you’re about to faint. Let me get you a glass of lemonade.”

  CHAPTER 7

  “Why I Love America”

  The blazing summer days crept by. Rosa fed the chickens in the morning and collected eggs. Mamá used them to give the family something other than beans to eat. Sometimes, she sold a few eggs to other families who no longer had chickens, or she sold them to the grocer in town. She used the money to buy flour and rice.

  After Rosa came home from Mrs. Madden’s house each afternoon, it was too hot to do anything except lie in the shade. Scorching heat made everyone sluggish, and sometimes Rosa would fall asleep under a tree with Isabella beside her. Her baby cousin was growing fast. No longer was she content to stay in her basket. She wanted to sit up and look around. Rosa tried to keep her cool with damp cloths.

  At the end of August, the big day came. Rosa was so nervous she could hardly swallow her breakfast. The whole town would gather on Main Street and watch the ceremony as the three prizewinners read their essays. The third-place and second-place winners would go first. Then Rosa, first place, would read her essay.

  Mamá and Papá were so proud. Rosa had translated her essay for them, and their faces beamed with pride. Rosa hoped that now they would understand why she wanted to get a good education in this new country. They all walked to town together that morning, even Tía. Rosa was worried that Tía was not well enough, but Tía said that nothing would keep her away, so Rosa might as well not try. She leaned heavily on Tío, and they had to walk slowly, but she kept going.

  As they got close and Rosa saw the platform where the winners would sit, she almost turned around and ran home. She was proud of her essay, but to stand up in front of all those people and read it terrified her.

  There was Henry! And Mrs. Madden! Rosa was so relieved to see them. Mrs. Madden gave her a great big hug and told her to breathe deeply and stand up straight. Rosa had every reason to be proud of herself, Mrs. Madden said. Rosa decided that she would look at Mrs. Madden in the crowd, and perhaps she would not be so nervous up on the stage. Her mind whirled so much that she hardly heard a word that the other prizewinners said. Then the mayor called for her. “I am pleased to introduce our first-prize winner, Miss Rosa Sanchez.”

  Rosa stood up awkwardly and stepped forward to the microphone. In her hand, she held a smooth, fresh paper. She had written out a clean copy of her essay just last night. Mrs. Madden smiled at her, and Rosa could not help but smile back. She began to read:

  “‘Why I Love America,’ by Rosa Sanchez

  “Love is a beautiful word. We use this word to express our affection for one another. We use this word when we are excited about doing something special. We use this word when we take care of a lovely little baby. Is it really a word to use when we want to say how we feel abou
t America?

  “America. Just to say the word makes my heart swell up with pride. America. Just to hear the word makes my future shine bright. America, a word that gives me hope. America, a place where my dreams can come true.

  “George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, and all the other people in the 1700s had a vision. They had a vision for freedom, for opportunity, for happiness, for respect, for a country where hard work pays off. Our country has had many difficult moments in its history, even war and injustice. But we learned from these lessons. We did not give up on the vision. We did not give up on the dream. We did not give up on the hard work it takes to build a strong nation.

  “I think the founding fathers would be pleased with what America has become. I know I am. I love America because America never gives up.”

  The applause began immediately. When Rosa stepped forward to bow to the audience, as Mrs. Madden had told her to do, she saw Papá clapping the hardest of all. Rosa grinned in relief as she turned to the mayor and he hung a blue ribbon around her neck.

  After the ceremony and after her family congratulated her again, Rosa looked through the crowd to find Mrs. Madden once more. She seemed to have disappeared, and Rosa thought perhaps she had gone home already. Then she spotted Mrs. Madden’s favorite blue hat and ran toward it. As she got closer, her steps slowed. Mrs. Madden was talking with a group of four or five people. Rosa recognized them. They were the school board.

  “After a speech like that, how can you possibly justify sending the Mexican children to an inferior school?”

  “But she’s not even American,” Mr. Elliot said. “Her family is Mexican.”

  “Her family came from Mexico, but Rosa was born right here in Dalhart. She is a citizen of the United States. Can you seriously listen to the words of that child and not see that in her heart she is as American as you and I? She deserves the same education that every other American child receives.” Mrs. Madden looked flushed, even with a hat to shade her face.