Blossoms on the Roof

by Rebecca Martin

  Father came into the house just then. “I’m sorry,” he said slowly. “We’ve decided we can’t take the table and chairs.”

  “Oh,” wailed Polly, “but you made them yourself.” He had made the table and chairs out of yellow pine lumber that shone warmly at night when the lamp was lit.

  “Isn’t there room in the freight car?” Ben asked.

  Father sat down on one of the chairs. “Oh, yes, there would be room. It’s because of the rent. You see, we still owe Paddy Lang rent for this farm. We want to do what’s honest and pay that rent. Paddy said he will accept the table and chairs as payment.”

  “Oh!” said Polly again. This time it was not a wail, just a sigh. She had thought they were finished with Paddy Lang. But after taking the sheep, the cow, and the calves as rent, he would take one more thing—their beautiful table and chairs.

  “Someday, I promise I will build us a new table and chairs.”

  Ben asked, “What will we use in the meantime?”

  “These packing boxes may have to do for a while,” Father answered. “But as soon as we have a house, I will cut some trees from the Turtle Mountains and build a makeshift table.”

  Polly asked, “What is a makeshift table?”

  “When something is makeshift, it is roughly built and meant only to be used until we have something better. When we have made enough money from selling our wheat crops, I can buy lumber to make a table just as good as this one.”

  Ben said gloomily, “We can’t even plant wheat this year.”

  “It’s true that we will be suffering hardships for a while. Let’s look at it this way. Hardships will help remind us that we are only strangers and pilgrims on this earth. One day we hope to be with the Lord in a better place.”

  The kitchen was very quiet. Even Jakie looked sober as he tried to understand what Father meant.

  Polly wasn’t sure she understood, but she did notice when the minister said almost the same thing the next day in church. He was talking about Abraham again. He said that Abraham lived only in tents. He did not live in big houses because he had faith in God and was seeking a better country. “Heaven is the better country that we all seek,” the minister said.

  Sunday was a happy-sad day for Polly. She was happy to see all her friends again, yet she was sad because she might not see them for a long time after this.

  Monday was next. On Monday when Polly came home from school, she hardly knew what to do. Their things were all packed. Tuesday was all she could think about. That was when they would have to get up early and drive to the train station with Jasper and Rob.

  Tuesday was the end—the end of life in Indiana. Grandpa and Grandma came over even though it was so early in the morning. They said they would rather say goodbye here than at the train station. They hugged and kissed everyone, and then it was time to go.

  Polly sat on the tail of the wagon. She waved and waved to Grandpa and Grandma who stood there in the yard of their old home. She waved until her arm grew tired, and then the wagon went around the corner, and she could not see their old home anymore.

  What a surprise waited for her at the train station! There, on the platform in front of a big crowd of people, stood Susan.

  “Oh, Mother, I have to go to her,” Polly begged as she climbed from the wagon.

  Mother looked at all the people milling about. “You must stay near me. You would get lost if you wandered around by yourself. Besides, I need you to watch Jakie and Lisbet while I help Father and Ben load our things into the freight and livestock cars.”

  The freight cars had been parked there since the week before. Yesterday Father brought one load of their things, and today they brought the rest in the wagon with them.

  “I will watch Jakie and Lisbet,” Polly said with a promise to be obedient. “Maybe Susan and her father will come over here.”

  Polly’s hope came true. In a few minutes, Susan was at her side. She explained, “I begged Father to bring me. John is here too. They want to help load your things. We won’t get to school till nearly noon, but that doesn’t matter.”

  “Maybe Miss Mulligan won’t mind,” Polly said. “After all, she said she would like to climb on a train to go to North Dakota.”

  “Today I feel like doing it too. I want to go with you,” admitted Susan.

  Already they could hear the train whistle from far down the line. Puffs of black smoke appeared above the trees. Then the big red and black engine came steaming around the bend, going slower and slower.

  It took a while for the engine to switch tracks and hook up the freight cars. Susan and Polly stayed close to Mother, Jakie, and Lisbet. Polly felt a little frightened about the many strangers milling about. To think that they all wanted to go to North Dakota too! She hoped it was a big place so everyone would have room.

  Everything was loaded. Father and Ben came back to say that Jasper and Rob were safely in the livestock car along with the other horses and some cows.

  It was time to board the train! Susan gave Polly one last hug and then stepped back. Father gripped Polly’s hand tightly, picked up Jakie, and led the way to the passenger car.

  The Yoder family boarded the train.

  They sat on wooden seats just inside the door. What a big coach it was! Dozens of people filled the rows of seats. Up above the seats were strange wide shelves. Father explained that those were bunks where they could sleep at night.

  Clouds of smoke and steam began drifting past the window. Ben whispered excitedly, “The engine is getting up steam!”

  Soon Polly felt the car jerk—once, twice, three times—and then they were moving forward. Faster and faster they went while the wheels made a click-clack sound beneath them and the coach swayed from side to side.

  “Like a ship,” said Ben, grinning. “We could imagine we’re on a ship like Great-Great Grandpa when he came over from Europe. It feels almost like we’re riding waves.”

  Father leaned across the back of the seat and said, “I think ocean waves are often a lot rougher than this.”

  At first Polly kept busy staring out the sooty window. Farms and fields and villages flew by at a tremendous speed, but soon the car’s rocking motion made her feel sleepy. She had been up early this morning, and before she knew it, she was fast asleep with her head down on the armrest.

  When she awoke, the train had stopped. How bewildered she felt! Rubbing her eyes, she stared at the soot-stained windows. “Is it morning?” she asked.

  Ben said with a chuckle, “You are all mixed up. It’s not morning. It’s late afternoon, and soon it will get dark.”

  Polly felt like crying. Everything was so strange. She could hardly see through the window. What are those tall square shapes out there? Are we in North Dakota already? She didn’t dare ask for fear her brother would laugh again.

  Mother noticed Polly’s bewilderment. She reached across the back of the seat to pat her shoulder. “We are in Chicago, Polly. It’s a big city with many, many buildings.”

  Now she knew what the tall shapes were. Noticing that Father’s seat was empty, she asked, “Where’s Father?”

  “He went to help feed and water the livestock. That’s quite a chore. When he gets back, we’ll eat supper. Then soon it will be bedtime.”

  Bedtime. Suddenly there was a funny hollow feeling in Polly’s tummy. She wished she could just climb the ladder to her little bedroom in the loft at home.

  Ben was wishing nothing of the kind. “It’s going to be fun, Polly! You and I get to sleep in those bunks up above. Father and Mother will just pull back their seats and sleep down here. Lisbet and Jakie will lie on blankets on the floor.”

  Polly eyed the bunk above her head. “What if I fall out?” she asked in a trembling voice.

  “You won’t.” Mother was quick to assure her. “There’s a sturdy railing. The rocking of the train will help you fall asleep tonight just as it did this afternoon.”

  Ben said excitedly, “Here comes Father now. I’m hungry for supper.”
The big basket of food Mother had brought was on the floor near his feet. As soon as Father sat down, the family gave thanks, and Ben handed out the thick slabs of brown bread to each one.

  While they ate, fresh clouds of steam and smoke puffed by the window. The train was starting again. Faster and faster they rocked along past the buildings of Chicago.

  “What a big city this is,” Polly whispered in awe. “When will we come to the end?”

  “I don’t know,” Ben said, crunching on a slice of raw turnip. “See, the lights are coming on in the buildings now.”

  Polly clapped her hands softly. “How pretty that looks!” She was sorry when they had passed the last building. She would never forget the sight of so many lighted windows, twinkling like stars in the night sky.

  Pressing her nose against the window, she stared out into the velvety darkness. “When will we see another light? Doesn’t anybody live here? This must be a desert.”

  “No, it’s not,” Father said with a chuckle. “Maybe all the people on the farms hereabouts have gone to bed already.”

  “Oh, there’s a light! It’s moving. Maybe it’s a mother carrying a pail of fresh milk and a lantern.” Dreamily she remembered how she and Mother would walk in from the barn after she had milked the cow. In North Dakota we’ll have a cow again…and a barn…and fresh milk every day.

  “Bedtime, Polly.” Father’s voice cut into her dreamy thoughts. “We will pray now, and then we’ll show you how to climb into the bunk.”

  The climbing was the worst part. Once settled on the thin mattress, Polly was quite comfortable. The sheets smelled of soot, and so did the curtain that hid her from everybody else. She was shut away in a private little world of her own. Down below were the comforting sounds of Father and Mother putting Jakie and Lisbet to sleep.

  8

  Kettie and Mattie

  Wake up, Polly,” Father said through the floor of her bunk. “We’re in Wisconsin now.”

  “Wisconsin?” Polly rubbed her eyes. What a strange feeling it was to wake up in a different state from the one she’d gone to sleep in!

  Polly parted the curtains and peered around the car. Cheerful morning light filtered through the sooty windows. All around her, in the bunks and on the seats, people were waking up. Some were eating breakfast from what they’d brought in their hampers.

  Right across the aisle from the Yoders was a family with two little girls. Yesterday Polly kept glancing at the girls, and they kept glancing back. Several times they had smiled at one another. Now Polly watched as the two girls clambered down from their bunk and shrilly asked their mother what they would have for breakfast.

  Suddenly hungry, Polly climbed down too and asked the same question. Father smiled. “In fifteen minutes or so, the train will stop. I’ll check the livestock and see if our chickens have laid any eggs. How would you like fresh eggs for breakfast?”

  Polly made a face. “How would we cook them?”

  Mother pointed to the far end of the car. “Haven’t you noticed that stove? See, somebody is frying eggs now. We will wait till it’s our turn, and then I will take a pan and cook some eggs for us.”

  “I’m hungry,” whined Jakie.

  “Here. You may have some bread for now,” Mother said as she offered Jakie a slice. “It might be a while before we can cook our eggs.”

  Just then the train jerked to a stop. Polly looked out the window and saw a dingy station and a few buildings. “This isn’t a very big town,” she said.

  Father and Ben hurried out. When they came back, they brought a surprise. “How about some fresh milk for breakfast?” Father asked, holding up a jar. “Another farmer was milking his cow and said it’s more milk than he and his family can drink today so he’s sharing it with others.”

  “Mmm,” Polly said, taking a long swallow of the rich milk. “And what about Flip? Is he happy there in the livestock car?”

  Ben chuckled. “Flip had to learn to get along with two other dogs. They’re doing fine now, though there was some snapping and snarling at first.”

  “I hope the other dogs don’t hurt Flip,” Polly said, fretting.

  “Don’t worry. Flip can take care of himself.”

  Mother went off to fry the eggs, and when she returned, the Yoder family ate the eggs right out of the warm pan. Although they couldn’t wash dishes on the train, everyone agreed that it had been a delicious breakfast.

  By this time the train was pounding along the track again. When Polly looked out the window, she saw dense forests and high rocky bluffs. Off to the left, she caught a flash of silver. “Is that a lake?” she asked.

  “No, that’s the Mississippi River,” said Father.

  “Really?” exclaimed Ben. He had learned about this vast river at school. “I wish we could get closer. I want to get a good look.”

  “At St. Paul we will cross the river,” said Father.

  Plunk. Something soft landed on Polly’s lap. She knew right away what it was. Yesterday she had seen the girls across the aisle playing with two balls. Polly liked the soft feel of the ball in her hand. The ball was homemade from pink cloth.

  Polly looked across the aisle. There were the two girls, putting their hands to their mouths and giggling. “Is this your ball?” Polly asked, holding it up.

  Both girls nodded and giggled harder.

  Polly looked at the ball. Should I throw it back? No, I’d better not. Sliding right to the edge of the seat, she reached across the aisle.

  Polly soon made friends on the train.

  “Thanks,” whispered the older of the two girls as she took back the ball.

  “Did you make the ball?” Polly asked shyly.

  The other girl shook her head. “Aunt Lona did. She made us each one—for going-away gifts.”

  “Are you moving too?”

  The girls nodded again. “To North Dakota.”

  “So are we. I’m Polly.” Suddenly they seemed like old friends.

  The girls looked at each other, both waiting for the other to speak first. “I’m Keturah,” the older one said. She had wispy brown hair and brown eyes. “Everyone calls me Kettie.”

  “And I’m Matilda. Well, Mattie,” said the younger, whose hair was the color of shining straw.

  “I hope we live near each other in North Dakota,” Polly said impulsively. “Then we could go to the same school.”

  The other two nodded. For a while it seemed they had run out of things to say, but then Kettie stated, “I’m glad we don’t have to go to school until October.”

  “Why? Don’t you like school?” asked Polly, trying to hide her disappointment in not starting school in North Dakota until the fall.

  Kettie shrugged. “I’m scared. Everyone will be strange.”

  “Oh, I see.” Kettie was right. At that moment Polly felt homesick for Miss Mulligan in her iron-gray dress, for Susan, and for all her other friends at the school back in Indiana.

  “Well, at least we’ll have each other—if we go to the same school,” Mattie said.

  Much to Ben’s delight, the train reached St. Paul before dark. “Please let me sit by the window, Polly,” he begged. “I want to see the Mississippi.”

  “But I want to see it too,” Polly complained.

  “Here. I’ll squeeze in beside you,” Ben said, shouldering his way to the window.

  “Ow! You’re pinching me. I can’t even see!”

  “Ben, be careful,” Mother warned.

  He edged over to give Polly more room. “Oh! That’s a big river. Do you see it now, Polly? Way down below the bridge?”

  “Yes, I see it,” Polly said, still feeling grumpy because he had shoved her around.

  Father told them, “We are in Minnesota now. Soon we will reach the town of Minneapolis where the train will stop to let us take care of the animals again.”

  Polly never saw Minneapolis. She was sound asleep before the train stopped, and by the next morning the train was steaming through the forests and fields of Minnesota.


  That day Polly got to know the Miller girls. They and their mother had come to sit with Polly and her mother while Ben and Father were gone. “I hope North Dakota is big enough for all these settlers,” said Sarah Miller, who was thirteen.

  “If there isn’t room for everyone, we’ll just go back home again,” Lizzie Miller said cheerfully. She was only a little older than Polly. Then there was Mary, who was a year younger than Polly. By the time they went back to their own seats, Polly was hoping the Miller girls would go to her school too.

  In the afternoon the train came to the Red River. “This is the boundary between Minnesota and North Dakota,” Father announced. There was excitement in his voice. “Look at the river, Ben. Do you notice something unusual about the water?”

  Ben peered down through the trestles of the bridge. “Why, this river flows northward!”

  “Yes. It goes right up to Canada into Hudson Bay.”

  “Right up to the Eskimos,” Ben said in awe.

  The train rolled through the town of Fargo and on into the country. Samuel Miller came walking down the aisle and told Father, “Last fall when we were here, we saw thousands of acres of wheat. The Red River valley has some of the most fertile soil in the States!”

  Ben asked immediately, “Will our farm be in the Red River valley?”

  “No, we are settling farther west,” Father replied.

  “The soil out in Rolette County, where we are going, is not quite so deep and rich, but it is still good wheat country,” Samuel assured them.

  Every now and then the train passed through a small town. People stood near the rails, waving and cheering.

  “They know this is an immigrant train and are happy to see more settlers coming,” Father said.

  “Why?” asked Polly.

  “Maybe they are a bit lonely,” Mother told her. “North Dakota is a big, empty land.”

  “Oh,” said Polly soberly. Mother’s comment made Polly feel a little lonely too.