I still have a small lump on my forehead, but at first

it was bigger than a goose egg! Ruby—a girl

I met—said there are some decent men in Washington,

the same as anywhere, but I didn’t meet many of them.

I met a lot of smart women, though. Ruby teaches

kindergarten—she said I should go back

someday and teach there because I’m good with children.

If it weren’t for her kindergarten, the children in her class

would have to go to factories all day with their mothers,

and a lot of them are put to work, even little ones.

Some people in Congress are trying to pass child labor laws,

which I think would be a good idea, don’t you? Wait …

Emma … you missed the turn to our house.

I guess I’m talking so much you forgot

where you’re going! Emma reins in the horses

and turns to look at me. She looks tired. Sad?

I didn’t forget, she says. Your parents asked me

to bring you to our house tonight. I wait for her

to explain, but she goes on in silence, letting the horses

trot toward her house, not mine. Emma, what is it?

Is something wrong? She has tears in her eyes!

Yes, Muriel, something is very wrong.

There’s Ollie, filling a pail with water from the creek;

he seems okay—I look more closely—

has his wound flared up? Emma

wipes her nose, brushes away tears.

It’s not Ollie, Muriel. It’s Grace.

I See That, Too / Emma

I See That, Too

Emma

Muriel takes a good, hard look at me. The fear

in my eyes must answer the question she doesn’t dare

ask. She jumps to the ground, lifts her skirt, and runs. Before

anyone can stop her, she’s across Crabapple Creek and halfway

home. Later, when Father takes her suitcase over, they don’t invite

him in. Ollie came to the buggy to meet me, he says when he gets back.

Grace is still alive. Mother makes them a pot of soup and a loaf of bread.

I can take it over, I offer. Mother draws a deep breath. No, I’ll go instead.

Father looks up at her, says, Yes, that’s good. Then, Ollie doesn’t let the lack

of an arm stop him from much, does he? I see that, too. Late last night

when he heard me singing to Grace, he came out to the creek to say,

I like your singing, Emma, but … Grace can’t hear you anymore.

I reached out to hold him. No, he said, Please stay where

you are. Ollie—as always, so thoughtful. So dear.

Lake of Shining Waters / Muriel

Lake of Shining Waters

Muriel

“Good night, dear Lake of Shining Waters.

I always say good night to the things I love

just as I would to people. I think they like it.