Farm life -- Indiana -- Fiction; Indiana -- Fiction; Sex role -- Fiction
"Merry Christmas, little people," she cried in a voice they had not
heard in a long time. They both rushed to her and Kate's heart stood
still as they each hugged her tight, kissed her, and offered a tiny
packet. From the size and feeling of these, she realized that they
were giving her the candy they had received the day before at school.
Surprises were coming thick and fast with Kate. That one shook her to
her foundations. They loved candy. They had so little! They had
nothing else to give. She held them an instant so tightly they were
surprised at her, then she told them to lay the packages on the living
room table until after breakfast. Polly opened the door, and screamed.
Adam ran, and then both of them stood silently before the brave little
tree, flaming red, touched with white, its gold star shining. They
looked at it, and then at each other, while Kate, watching at an angle
across the dining room, distinctly heard Polly say in an awed tone:
"Adam, hadn't we better pray?"
Kate lifted herself full height, and drew a deep breath. "Well, I
guess I manage a little Christmas after this," she said, "and maybe a
Fourth of July, and a birthday, and a few other things. I needn't be
such a coward. I believe I can make it."
From that hour she began trying to think of something she could do that
would bring returns more nearly commensurate with the time and strength
she was spending. She felt tied to Walden because she owned the house,
and could rely on working on shares with Aunt Ollie for winter food;
but there was nothing she could do there and take care of the children
that would bring more than the most meagre living. Still they were
living, each year more comfortably; the children were growing bigger
and stronger; soon they could help at something, if only she could
think what. The time flew, each day a repetition of yesterday's
dogged, soul-tiring grind, until some days Kate was close to despair.
Each day the house grew shabbier; things wore out and could not be
replaced; poverty showed itself more plainly. So three more years of
life in Walden passed, setting their indelible mark on Kate. Time and
again she almost broke the spell that bound her, but she never quite
reached the place where her thought cleared, her heart regained its
courage, her soul dared take wing, and try another flight. When she
thought of it, "I don't so much mind the falling," said Kate to
herself; "but I do seem to select the hardest spots to light on."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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